A shared, but personal Grief

A friend of my wife’s lost her young child to a rare brain disorder about 5 years ago. Although I did not know her well, our kids played together. My wife talked about it a lot, as her friend’s marriage was suffering in the wake of their child’s death. They would continue to struggle for a couple of years before separating and finally getting a divorce.

It is very common for good marriages to fail under the weight of Intense grief such as the loss of a child. It isn’t that they do not care for and love each other, it’s that we all experience grief in a very unique and personal way, and we experience it in our own time.

It is said that there are 7 stages common to grief: Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing and Acceptance. We can experience them in any order or experience the same one more than once. It is even possible for people to get “stuck” in a phase of their grief for extended periods of time, even for the rest of their lives.

Then there are the different manifestations or symptoms of grief. They too are extremely unique and personal.

  • Crying
  • Headaches
  • Difficulty Sleeping
  • Questioning the Purpose of Life
  • Questioning Your Faith
  • Feelings of Detachment
  • Isolation from Friends and Family
  • Abnormal Behavior
  • Worry
  • Anxiety
  • Frustration
  • Guilt
  • Fatigue
  • Anger
  • Loss of Appetite
  • Aches and Pains
  • Stress

Over the last 5 months, my daughter, my wife and I, have experienced the full range of grief and it’s symptoms. Being completely different people, however, we have been going through them at very different times, and in very different orders.

My daughter was living in denial for a very long time. Denial is a great defense and survival mechanism, regardless of how horrible the situation is, denial can protect us, or at least delay our feelings and emotions in regards to a traumatic event or loss.

When I questioned my daughter for the first time, about what my father had done to her, I could see the denial literally fade away, as a flood of emotion and pain, came to the surface, her face distorted as she began to weep and nod the answers, to questions no father should ever have to ask his daughter. She had become so accustomed to living in denial, that It would be another 3-4 weeks before the reality of everything would truly hit her, and it would hit her hard, without notice, over and over and over again.

My wife has had a very different journey in her grief. For our entire marriage, I have been the rock and she was this jellyfish, sunbathing on the rock. In those first few weeks of discovery, our roles were completely reversed. She became the strength I needed, to get me through those early dark days of shock and confusion. Eventually, the pain and hopelessness, of watching her husband and daughter go through so much trauma, loss, and sorrow, would become too much and push her to an emotional breaking point. It didn’t help that this was a trigger for her, dredging up pain she had never quite recovered from.

I reacted quite differently. Within the first couple of hours of knowing the truth about my father, I would describe my behavior and reaction as being on autopilot. I was flat, unemotional and detached, I showered, I shaved and I planned. I was this simmering pot of rage, that I would slowly and intently turn the heat up on the nearer I got to my father.

I would never experience denial. The anger and guilt were so intense for me, It would be weeks before I would get any sleep. I would end up taking 4 weeks of leave from work to focus on my family and work through the rawest of emotions. In those 4 weeks, time distorted in a way that I had never experienced on that scale, minutes felt like hours, days felt like weeks, and sometimes 2 to 3 days would pass without a notice. The mundane, day to day tasks, became monumental. I was internalizing everything and was all but paralyzed by anger, guilt and my own thoughts. Eventually, with the help and support of my wife, and a few others, I would be able to compartmentalize enough to start moving forward.

The only one in our house, who could escape any of this, was my son. He would steer clear of conversations, hide in his room, or fight aliens online. When he would see I was in a rough place he would come over and offer a hug of support, tell me he loves me then scurry back to his room. I didn’t realize he was getting most of the information from my daughter, they have a really good relationship and she kept him up to date on the general state of things.

For the next six months, we would wind our way through the different stages of grief, as the enormity of my father’s actions unfolded in front of us. Coupled with the confusion of a multistate police investigation, little to no updates from the prosecutor, and the broken relationships of our extended family, there were many moments when our feelings and emotional states would be in stark contrast. Each one of us reaching an emotional critical mass at different times and for different reasons, causing misunderstandings, thoughtless comments and imagined slights.

This week my wife called me at work, to tell me my daughter was in her room crying and she didn’t know what to do. By the time I got home, it was “she said”, “she said”, kind of emotional argument, where everyone was the victim and no one knew how it started. I pulled the three of us into a single room and we worked it out. It was raw and honest, and painful, as there really isn’t any other way to deal with this, but we worked it out. And we will do it again tomorrow or next week if we have to. because that is what families do.

The stress of what we are going through is great, and there are going to be some very bad days, and on the worst of days, when your instincts tell you to push everyone away, we have to hold on tighter and pull each other closer. The side we are on was chosen years ago, before any of this ever happened, and years from now we will still be here, together.

…and if you are going through this as well, know that you are not alone.