Understanding Grief

Families in grief need equal accommodation and relief for all their members. Before our experience with death, when distress touched the life of an acquaintance or friend, we hardly understood the meaning of such loss. We were unable to empathise because we did not know how another person felt. Only when it happened to our family, did we begin to understand some of the painful emotions that others had tasted. I must admit that I did not really know how to care for others. I discovered later that to pay attention to the feelings and fears of other people in moments of crisis was better than to wait for the grieving individual to return to normal. I began to understand how to care for others when I tasted firsthand the measure of grief, the weight of loss, the anguish of separation and the crushing void of a missing loved one. Floyd’s death ushered me into the private, chaotic world of the bereaved. I now knew what it felt like to struggle to find meaning and strength to go on living without Floyd. On the one hand, I wrestled with the need to embrace the memory of my loved one while also having the courage to let go of the pain. Experiencing this complex emotion of grief, I somehow managed to defer my own sense of loss by busying myself in providing comfort to others. This unresolved grief resulted in the regret of displaced anger as I tried to deal with the lack of accustomed comforts such as the loving warmth of a mother, the friendship of a brother and, later, the love and wise counsel of a father. I know what it is to have shrugged off extended hands of comfort when deep inside I desperately felt the need for such compassion. I know what it is to have said “I’m all right” when I was not. The inside of the human mask, once strange to me, grew familiar. Dear Daddy To manage my own grief, I wrote and addressed letters to my father which remained undelivered for many years under the guise that they were merely private journal entries. The truth is those letters served as an honest and innocent heart-to-paper valve suitable for the deep emotions, feelings and thoughts I often wished I knew how to express. I later came to discover that by not releasing them to him immediately, I had denied myself the blessing of resolve and the kind understanding of a father’s loving heart. At that time, I failed to understand too that grief, like any other human expression, was a valid emotion of which I should not be ashamed. Writing these letters brought me release. Years later, while reading them to myself, I learned the importance of validating the feelings that others tried to express from time to time. These letters, the product of a troubled breast, are today dedicated to my siblings and their families. My memories, at that time so intimate, are today made bare. No longer mine alone, they are timeless and valuable to families everywhere. I am delighted to note that before his death, Daddy sat in my home with a happy mixture of both tears and laughter as he read the first draft of this tribute. The brief joys I was privileged to share with him in my childhood remain indelible though my love for him, though seldom then openly expressed. In his final years, ours grew into a delightful and fruitful father-daughter friendship. His fond memory is added to my many treasures. August 13, 1985 Dear Daddy: Today is Mammy’s birthday. Well, it was, anyway. Although I remembered, I was not sure whether to mention it when I came to visit since your own recent illness and hospitalisation was already cause for much concern. Already, two and a half years have passed since Mammy left us, and we do still miss her a lot. I was so full of remembrance when I visited you today, but decided not to mention her name. Now, I wish I did. I felt very sad when you asked me if I had forgotten. I am not quite sure now if I said the right words in reply. I know you, Daddy. You are a wonderful thoughtful person. I have no doubt that you may have visited Mammy’s grave and left tokens there of your love and remembrance, had you felt well enough. However, you were unable to do so due to your condition. Perhaps the simple mention of her name today may have proven to you that Mammy was remembered. Daddy, please know that none of us will ever forget her, or you, for that matter. Someone told me that you cried after I left. Perhaps you cried because you thought I had forgotten. Or perhaps you cried because your love for Mammy was still as fresh as ever. Daddy, please know that I understand your tears. And also Daddy, that I love you very much. Please get well soon. With love, Pearl The inside of the human mask, once strange to me, grew familiar. August 14, 1985 Dear Daddy: I write today to beg your understanding on a particular matter. This is about Mammy, but it is also about me. There is a very special place in all of our lives where the memory of our mother is held sacred and dear. That place is filled with memory and a glorious hope. Although I miss her, however, I feel neither sadness nor grief at her passing. Please let me explain…