Resources for Supporting Others Through Anticipatory Grief

 Saying that I was experiencing “anticipatory grief” would not have come close to capturing all the nuances and struggles, unique for me, as it is for everyone. ~ Donna S. Davenport

A colleague writes: I have a request to consult tomorrow with counseling staff at a high school regarding a staff member just diagnosed with a stage four brain tumor. Looking through your rich web site I'm saying to myself, "Articles, and books and messages, oh, my." Can you help me go to materials on anticipatory grieving, or feeling our own mortality/vulnerability, or helping someone cope with a terminal illness?? You may be able to help me sort through so I can go straight to the meat this busy day before I must show up ready to help! Many thanks if you can help at this last moment.

When a Teen Driver Carries the Weight of Guilt After a Fatal Accident

God teach us by Moments, we only know it as Accidents  ~ Dyota Narotama

A reader writes: Two weeks ago my nephew was involved in a terrible auto accident. He was driving at night during a heavy thunderstorm when one of his rear tires blew out. He lost control of his car, skidded off the highway and ended up hitting a tree. His girlfriend was in the passenger seat and did not survive the accident. My nephew is only 17 years old and is not handling this well at all. I am worried about him and don’t know what I can do to help. 

My response: I’m so sorry to learn of the tragic auto accident that took the life of your nephew’s girlfriend. I can only imagine how devastating this has been for you, your nephew, and both families. Auto crashes are among the most sudden and unanticipated of deaths, and that alone can make grieving especially complicated.

It’s very likely that your nephew believes, deep down, that he was somehow responsible for his girlfriend’s death—even though the accident was unintentional.

After a Child’s Murder: What Parents Need to Know About Guilt, Grief, and Survival

When working with families and friends of people who have been murdered I find that the operative verb is never died but was killed . . . Being killed is seen as different from dying; it's unnatural, a form of theft, an act of taking something from you and your loved ones. What is taken is a person's life and all of its promise for future joy and happiness, companionship, and accomplishment. It is the most precious commodity one can steal and the greatest loss one can suffer.  ~ Helen Fitzgerald

A reader writes: I’m writing this letter in hopes of finding some peace. It will be three years next month that my son was murdered. He was only 18.

Mixing Grief, Medication, and Alcohol: A Dangerous Combination

Heavy use of drugs or alcohol can intensify the experience of grief and depression and impair the bereavement process. ~ J. William Worden

A reader writes: I wonder if I might turn out to become one of those complicated grief people. I have all the risk factors. I'm not usually a drinker or a drug taker -- I've been regularly using alcohol and Serax (oxazepam) since my husband died. The same thing happened after we got his diagnosis a year ago, but when we received some positive news that they might be able to beat the cancer or at least control it - I was able to cut out the oxazepam and reduce drinking to a glass of wine a day. Then he suddenly died - and we were completely unprepared. Even the doctors were surprised.

In Grief: Coping with Anxiety and Panic Attacks

Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.  ~ C.H. Spurgeon

A reader writes: I am trying to figure out if what I am going through is normal. I am thinking that it is probably some kind of panic or anxiety attack. It started when I had something upsetting happen totally unrelated to the death of my friend. Everything went okay with that situation but things seemed to get worse as the evening went on. Yesterday it was like I had tunnel vision all day. I felt shaky and detached. I have been restless, anxious, and feeling like I am sleep deprived when I have actually been sleeping.

When a Parent Dies: Supporting the Grief of Adolescents

A father is one of God's first gifts to our hearts, and his love stays with us always.  ~ Holly Gerth 

A reader writes: I lost my dad 6 months ago. He had a tumor in his pancreas that was discovered two years before that. He was told he had cancer on my 13th birthday. He had many operations, and cancer treatments like chemotherapy, but after a long struggle he died in a hospice in our city. I live with my mother and my 7-year-old brother. We are happy, but I feel really sad sometimes, because I miss my dad. I was very close to him, and we were very alike in the way we were both mechanical. He was a professor of engineering and he wrote many articles and textbooks. I am very proud of him. I boast about him a lot, and it makes me feel better to know that he did something in his life that was so fantastic – or I think so anyway. It’s just gone past 6 months since he died, and I’m beginning to feel very sad a lot of the time.

In Grief: Learning from Experience

There is only one thing more painful than learning from experience, and that is not learning from experience.  ~Laurence J. Peter

Over a single weekend, a remarkable series of posts appeared in one of the forums on our online Grief Healing Discussion Groups. Entitled What I’ve Learned, it began when one of our widowed members decided to share what she’s learned from grief ~ both positive and negative ~ and she invited others to follow suit.

The result is a remarkable list of helpful tips and insights, all containing the wisdom that only comes from the hard-won, gut-wrenching experience of having lost a loved one. We decided that such wisdom deserves to be shared with others who are grieving.

In Grief: Acknowledging Jealousy and Anger

It would be impossible to estimate how much time and energy we invest in trying to fix, change and deny our emotions ~ especially the ones that shake us at our very core, like hurt, jealousy, loneliness, shame, rage and grief.  ~ Debbie Ford

A reader writes: My counselor came. We talked. I told her about my horrible feelings about other people who have been ill and are recovering. Instead of feeling good for them like a proper empathetic person should do, I feel sorry that they are getting better. How totally awful is that? My counselor said that it's anger that my husband died and they didn't. She said she asked me way back if I felt anger at my husband’s death and I said No. She said now the anger is coming out in resentment that others have survived and my husband has not. I think she may be right. I have struggled with this because it seems such a horrible attitude.

Supporting a Survivor of Homicide Loss

Spend 24 hours in my shoes as a victim of gun violence and I guarantee you will never look at guns the same way again.  ~ Bill Jenkins

A reader writes: I lost my significant other of 6 years only 4 months ago. We shared 4 children together and life is just not the same. I can't figure out why I am numb, frozen and slowing down. Things have gotten very hard, I truly don't want to express how hard. The pain I feel is crazy but I keep striving to be positive and to also find a new identity in this process. Nothing is the same.

I started a blog dedicated to him in hopes of finding other women (or anyone) who has lost their partner because I feel very alone in my battle. I wanted to express my feelings truthfully and freely amongst individuals in hopes to connect and help heal. I lost Damian to murder so connecting with people who understand that part as well were my hopes. Id like to hear other stories and also have the wisdom of others as well. Hopefully writing to you can help, but I would love for other women to connect and share their stories as well and hear me vent.

Making Room for New Love after Loss: Hope, Healing, and Resources

And think not that you can direct the course of love, for love, if it's worthy, directs your course.  ~ Khalil Gibran

A reader writes: I have insight into my growth through grief these past 2 years. At first it was a tight shell around me, I couldn't let anyone in. Now it's a softer cocoon. I empathize with newly bereaved in a way I never got before. I sit, I'm patient, I listen.

I feel room in my heart for a new life partner while maintaining my connection with my deceased husband. How did I get here? I met a guy, a widower, he gets it! He gets me. I get him. It's new, I'm hopeful. I miss my deceased husband daily and I'm "in like" with a new man. I have room in my heart yet it feels awkward -- and hopeful.