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Reflections September 2014

Love and Loss

By Barbara Newell

I learned that what I needed to do was listen to my sister, let her talk, let her cry, let her get angry, let her yell at me. Yes, loss is very hard. Understanding this for me was very anguishing. I decided to just be present with her and do what she wished and as she wanted.

For a long period of time, I watched and listened as my brother‑in‑law’s health deteriorated. My sister was married to her lifelong sweetheart for 35 years. Living almost 1000 miles from her, I could only talk to her (usually daily) and try to give her strength and courage. I never really knew what to tell her. After all, unless we have gone through this particular situation ourselves, how can we understand?

There is so much worry, anguish, decisions and prayers that take place each second of each day when one is critically ill.

I make the month of August my time to visit my hometown, where my sister still resides. But, I unexpectedly decided to make my flight reservations for May 15 instead.

A few days before my departure, my brother‑in‑law was hospitalized again. This time the diagnosis was not good. I arrived at the hospital at 7 p.m. May 15. He was not awake and could not be awakened. His heartbeat was fast and his breathing was labored. I knew it was a matter of hours, not days. Nine hours after I arrived, he passed away.

My sister, brother, sister‑in‑law and I were present when another unusual decision occurred. You see, my sister and her husband were very private people. They loved family but depended on their time alone with each other. My sister‑in‑law and I both decided to walk the hall about 4:20 a.m. My brother had fallen asleep on a chair in the room. My sister was at the bedside holding her husband’s hand.

Sometimes we just get feelings. As I walked the hall for a few moments with my sister‑in‑law, we wondered what he was waiting for. What could it be? As we entered the door of the hospital room about 4:30 a.m., my brother was walking toward the door with a strange look on this face. My sister had called for him to bring a towel. I asked him what happened and his face was blank. My sister said tearfully, he’s gone.

I looked into my sister‑in‑law’s eyes and we then definitely knew what he had been waiting for. He needed her close family to be with her, but he also needed a moment alone with her so that he could leave this world in her arms only. The way it always had been, the way it was supposed to be.

I learned many lessons during that grieving period. I learned that you can never understand what it is like to lose that one special person if you have not had this sadness yourself.

I learned that time stands still for days and weeks, and nights combine as one.

I learned that what I needed to do was listen to my sister, let her talk, let her cry, let her get angry, let her yell at me. Yes, loss is very hard. Understanding this for me was very anguishing. I decided to just be present with her and do what she wished and as she wanted.

During the couple of weeks I stayed after his death, I accompanied her to visit the cemetery (many times), wrote cards, looked at old pictures, listened to his favorite songs, let her sleep in his chair instead of her bed and honored everything he left in its particular place.

Life does go on, we are told. But I am sure it is not the same.

Her sadness is in the fact that they always thought they would grow old together; they did not. She just celebrated their 36th wedding anniversary June 15 at his grave. The physical location brings some peace to her and knowing that he is awaiting her in Heaven with God and family members he has joined, gives her some realization that her life does have to continue and time for all of us is short in reality. They will be together again sooner than our minds can imagine as time goes by.

If you have lost a loved one, know that your family and friends are there for you. We can never understand your unique experience with the loss; however, we ARE there for YOU with much love.

 

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