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Originally Posted by SallyBrown
I've have the curse/blessing of experiencing lots of losses throughout life, though I am lucky to still have my parents, whom I love. Some of my grad school friends were shocked at the number of funerals/memorials I had been to by the time I was in my 20's.
I was thinking hard about your question, and found that the words I don't relate to in it are "too soon". And I think I can see a parallel there with how I often feel about others who are less experienced with loss, or just having a really hard time with it.
I rarely think of someone as having gone "too soon". For sure, I grieve the loss of someone who was very young, or had small children, or was a child himself (truly horrible), probably more than someone who lived to 90. As Venus said, it's the loss of possibility that is so crushing there. But somehow, "soonness" isn't a part of it for me.
I think having to lose a lot of people I love at almost regular intervals starting as a child, it's really a routine part of life to me. People die. People die expectedly and unexpectedly. People leave other people behind. It happens, and the question of "when" seems almost... like it's missing the point. "When" could be anytime. I could die today. Don't know. Hope not.
I often find myself getting frustrated with people who do not live as if anyone they love could die at any time. As if there will always be time to say "I love you" later. As if there will always be time to say "I forgive you" later. Or "thank you". Or "I missed you". Or "I'm sorry". Not that these things should be said insincerely, but that when they are meant and withheld, it's like a scar on the emotional universe that becomes permanent when the opportunity to say them is taken away.
When my grandmother was dying, my family and I were with her in the hospital for the majority of the first day where it was clear she was going soon, and then we went home to sleep (except for my dad). My brother asked me why we weren't staying -- shouldn't we be there until the end? I asked him if he had said everything to her that he wanted to say. He said no. I told him to get in the car and go back to the hospital, and not hold anything back. Because she was dying, and sitting by her would not make up for anything left unsaid. And even if we were there, she could very well pass while he was taking a bathroom break.
This is what your question makes me think about, in my own life. It makes me wonder why you think it's "too soon", and what you envision getting out of having more time. Not that we don't all want more time with our loved ones. But we also owe it to them to let them go, and live our own lives as they are, not as they could have been.
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Thank you for sharing, Sally. I'm sorry you've gone through so many losses. Your perspective on it is helpful to me. I think, in my case, I still regret "checking out" when my Mom was sick and dying. I wasn't there emotionally because I couldn't deal with it. Looking back, I see myself almost like dissociating through her last months. She didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to her. I didn't have words to even say "I love you." I didn't talk about death and neither did she. For a mother and daughter who were so close, it seems weird. I wish I had been in therapy then, to get help with how to have closure with a dying mother when I didn't know how.
I've written letters to her in my therapy, and written answers back. That helps, but doesn't take away from the way I handled her death back then. One of my Ts said that my Mom could have initiated a conversation. It wasn't my fault. It is just the way it was. I was 33 with a child, my Mom's only grandchild. We knew this was coming; she was sick for about 3 years. My family did the best we could, in the way we could. I just wish I had told her "I love you". I don't know if she said it to me either. I remember how much it hurt for me to be in the room with her, and I didn't know what to say. I wasn't ready to see her like that. I wanted her to still be around and be a Mom and grandma, and a great grandma like my Dad was. It's really sad for me.
So, the phrase I wrote is significant for me, in my own way.
With Ts and Moms, it's always too soon.... I know that Blur will say it ties in with my other statement:
"If I stay in therapy forever, it's like my mother never died." I think I cried because T is like my Mom. She always praises my artwork and my writing; she is there for me, she says nice things to me, she is kind to me, she smiles at me, she cares about my life--all the details like my Mom did. When I quit seeing my T, it's the loss of 2 very important people in my life, not one. That's how I feel, but intellectually I know it's not quite like that. When I wrote those two statements, they came from my heart, in a deep place, not from my brain. They aren't meant to be logical. I can see it's personal, not general. It's MY stuff, not anyone else's. It's okay if no one understands. Your perspectives are your own. We're each different.
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Originally Posted by roseleigh7
My therapist was the father I never had. I lost him abruptly and it didn't end well at all. I am grieving terribly. It's not like a death grief, but it is grief and should be treated as such. It's horrible and I know this might not relate to mom issues, but I am dealing with horrible loss and grief and sadness and pain and blaming myself and wondering if any of the work we did together was worth anything. It's awful.
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I'm very sorry that you are still grieving the loss of your T. Please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. I would think that a lot of the work you did in therapy was worthwhile. I'm sorry you don't have an opportunity to discuss your feelings and questions with your former T. Is there any chance at all of doing that?
