I don't consider myself some kind of veteran griever or anything, but over the course of the past month, I've come to realize the comfort tactics that work well and some that work....not so much. So here are some examples of what has and hasn't helped me.
GOOD:
Sending a simple text message saying, "Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you. Hope you're hanging in there." Perfect. Offers support without hinging on unrealistic cliches like, "I know I live in Guam and would need three connecting flights and a submarine to get there, but if you ever need help watching the kids, let me know and I'll see what I can do."
BAD:
Overemphasizing the sadness. In general, no one likes this person, but they are even more prominently spirit-crushing during times of grief. The people who generally fall into this category are women in their 80s who've seen their share of losses (and arthritis). My Grandmother's friend came up to me at the wake and enlightened me with, "Oh, and I guess this means no 60th birthday party for your Mom. What a shame. What an absolute shame. That will be such a difficult day for you kids now. Wow. Your family has just been decimated. Decimation has occurred here." Thanks, Mildred. Does this diatribe come with a gun? For at least one of us?!
GOOD:
Offering me alcohol and/or tickets to concerts/sporting events. Hey, it was worth mentioning, that's all I'm saying.
BAD:
Bringing up something you recently went through and comparing it to this. Now, I understand things could be worse. And there are surely other situations that left people more screwed than I am. But I lost my Mother AND Grandmother in a weekend. They lived within ten minutes of me. We saw each other all the time. Neither one of them was overtly sick and we were all shocked by their deaths. Don't compare this to your divorce. Which you were probably the cause of, anyway, based on this little chat.
GOOD:
Taking my mind off of it. I had a 20 minute conversation the other day about what food we were or weren't willing to eat off the ground. It was disgusting, it was outrageous, and it didn't remind me of anything sad. I loved it.
BAD:
Assuming everything is okay. Surely, I don't expect daily check-ins on my mental state. But for the immediate family, happiness will now need to be redefined. My life will always be missing these two crucial pieces and mentally accepting that is something that could take years. So, if you consider yourself a true friend to me or to my sister, please don't forget that we need you. Now more than ever. So, about those concert tickets...
I know there's probably a handful of readers who are frustrated with my lack of humor the past month. There may even be some who fault me for publicizing so much of my personal business. But folks, you should know by now that I'm all about full disclosure (and I'm leaving out more than you know). There's something cathartic and healing about the process of chronicling your pain in words. At least for me. And I'm hearing more and more that people find it inspiring. So I'll continue doing it as long as I find it to be beneficial.
Feel free to pass this along to others, and thanks as always for your support.
-Joe DeProspero
Friday, May 18, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Talking to Your Toddler About Heaven
I don't bring up Grandma Linda or Nana Helen to my 3-year-old son, Antonio. Ever. I guess I'm afraid he'll ask when he'll see them again, or worse yet, start straining to remember who they are. So, I did what any parent with a child-related problem would do- I consulted the Internet. And it shouldn't surprise you to know that I discovered I'm handling this entirely the wrong way. In fact, I can't remember a time Google ever positively affirmed my decision-making.
What I generally found is that we need to openly discuss the situation with our kids, that sheltering them from the truth would only confuse and frustrate them. I'm guessing that's why he's been acting up so much lately. At least I hope that's why. Otherwise, he was just being a jerk for no good reason.
So, last night, while he was picking out his pajamas, I started in with, "Antonio, I have to talk to you about something, okay?" And he seemed as receptive as any easily distracted 3-year-old and looked me straight in the eye. "Grandma and Nana went to heaven. That's why you don't see them anymore." At this point I realized he had absolutely no clue what I was talking about. I tried to clarify. "It's a magical place you go when you get really, really old and sick." Really, really old and sick?! My Mom would be thrilled to hear this description. But I wanted to convey that it wasn't happening to anyone else around him anytime soon. He continued staring at me, but he did seem locked into the conversation. So I tried bringing positivity into my little diatribe. "So, now when you want to see Grandma and Nana, just say the word and we'll watch videos of them on my phone!" I tried to be as peppy as possible, and I think it worked as he truly seemed excited about the arrangement.
I'm only adding this stock picture to the blog so I can attach it as an appropriate thumbnail image on Facebook.
Minutes later, Sonia walked into the room. And I reiterated to her how Antonio was going to now see Grandma and Nana through our phones! We both acted as enthusiastic as possible for him, and it actually started working. He seemed content and satisfied that they were now in this heaven place and particularly thrilled that we were actually encouraging him to put his grubby paws on our iPhones- something he perpetually yearned for.
Then, amidst the fabricated joy, Sonia said, "Hey, you wanna watch the video where you hit Grandma with a pillow during our big pillow fight?" I have a habit of documenting anything and everything, so I had plenty of footage of that "fight" from only a week before her death. Antonio excitedly replied, "Yeah! And next time I see her, I hit her with pillow AGAIN!" I suppose those are the heartbreaking moments we'll have to endure for the foreseeable future.
Thanks for reading, and feel free to share.
-Joe DeProspero
What I generally found is that we need to openly discuss the situation with our kids, that sheltering them from the truth would only confuse and frustrate them. I'm guessing that's why he's been acting up so much lately. At least I hope that's why. Otherwise, he was just being a jerk for no good reason.
So, last night, while he was picking out his pajamas, I started in with, "Antonio, I have to talk to you about something, okay?" And he seemed as receptive as any easily distracted 3-year-old and looked me straight in the eye. "Grandma and Nana went to heaven. That's why you don't see them anymore." At this point I realized he had absolutely no clue what I was talking about. I tried to clarify. "It's a magical place you go when you get really, really old and sick." Really, really old and sick?! My Mom would be thrilled to hear this description. But I wanted to convey that it wasn't happening to anyone else around him anytime soon. He continued staring at me, but he did seem locked into the conversation. So I tried bringing positivity into my little diatribe. "So, now when you want to see Grandma and Nana, just say the word and we'll watch videos of them on my phone!" I tried to be as peppy as possible, and I think it worked as he truly seemed excited about the arrangement.
Minutes later, Sonia walked into the room. And I reiterated to her how Antonio was going to now see Grandma and Nana through our phones! We both acted as enthusiastic as possible for him, and it actually started working. He seemed content and satisfied that they were now in this heaven place and particularly thrilled that we were actually encouraging him to put his grubby paws on our iPhones- something he perpetually yearned for.
Then, amidst the fabricated joy, Sonia said, "Hey, you wanna watch the video where you hit Grandma with a pillow during our big pillow fight?" I have a habit of documenting anything and everything, so I had plenty of footage of that "fight" from only a week before her death. Antonio excitedly replied, "Yeah! And next time I see her, I hit her with pillow AGAIN!" I suppose those are the heartbreaking moments we'll have to endure for the foreseeable future.
Thanks for reading, and feel free to share.
-Joe DeProspero
Monday, May 14, 2012
Has it Really Been a Month?
They say "time flies when you're having fun." But in actuality, it
flies all the time, even when we're not. Well, really, it's always going the
same speed, but we're ignorant enough to forget that fact. However, I'm fairly
certain this happens when we're too busy living our lives to pay any attention
to the consistently ticking clock.
My Mom died a month ago today. It doesn't seem possible. Well, none of this does, I suppose. But feelings this fresh couldn't have actually started a full calendar month ago, could they? But they did. Despite the haze I've been in this past month, I've managed to remember almost everything, from the people who surprised me by attending the wake to the people who, frankly, annoyed me by not attending any of the services or even sending a simple email or text message. When they say, "This is when you find out who your true friends are," they are spot on.You also find out who your friends aren't, and a whole lot about your own personal strengths and weaknesses. You learn how you react to the darkest of times. And me personally? I'm currently welcoming distractions. Whether I like it or not, my kids see to it that I don't mope for too long. Antonio particularly has been helpful. His behavior was so erratic yesterday I was too busy yelling at him to realize it was Mother's Day. So, thanks for that, kid. I owe you one. My wife, Sonia sat me down on Saturday and had me re-watch the movie "Bridesmaids." That helped too. And I didn't even have to yell at it! But I did laugh.
I've also found that people have different ways of showing support. Some people will corner me with a "How you doin'?" and actually expect a salient response. While others simply send the same thought via text message. Others even walk right up and hug me. In short, I appreciate all of it. Especially since the pain is going to be spread out over time, not just confined to the day of the funeral.
Some of my happiest moments have been followed immediately by extreme sadness, and vice versa. Seeing my younger son Nate laugh fills me with joy. Then I remember how much he looks like his Grandmother, and how he'll never know her. But maybe in this case the cliche is true- if we keep her memory alive, then she's not really gone. I overheard Sonia last night pointing to a picture and asking Antonio who he saw. "That's my Grandma!" he said with a satisfied grin. I smiled and my eyes filled my tears. His inherent innocence is as uplifting as it is heartbreaking.
I still have old voicemails from both Mom and Grandma saved on my phone- even one from the day of Mom's death, asking if I'd heard from her. I've wondered whether that's healthy or not. But regardless, there they sit. I once watched a TV show where a man lost his girlfriend to a drug overdose and repeatedly called her cell phone afterward just to hear her voice. When I saw it, I thought he was nuts. Now he doesn't seem so crazy.
I should add that I feel my Grandma got short-changed in the grief department. Her death, if it had happened independent of Mom's, would've been a major family loss in and of itself. It's kind of like getting a new bike and a new 60-inch TV for Christmas. You still love the bike. And I love Grandma dearly. She was a fixture at every family event since I was born and likely would've lasted another ten years if Mom hadn't passed.
I'll end this on a lighter note. I keep Mom's cell phone in my dresser drawer. The other day I turned it on to see if anyone had tried sending her any messages. I have to say I was tempted to make some calls. Just to scare the shit out of people.
Thanks for reading, and of course, for supporting me.
-jdp
jdeprospero@gmail.com
My Mom died a month ago today. It doesn't seem possible. Well, none of this does, I suppose. But feelings this fresh couldn't have actually started a full calendar month ago, could they? But they did. Despite the haze I've been in this past month, I've managed to remember almost everything, from the people who surprised me by attending the wake to the people who, frankly, annoyed me by not attending any of the services or even sending a simple email or text message. When they say, "This is when you find out who your true friends are," they are spot on.You also find out who your friends aren't, and a whole lot about your own personal strengths and weaknesses. You learn how you react to the darkest of times. And me personally? I'm currently welcoming distractions. Whether I like it or not, my kids see to it that I don't mope for too long. Antonio particularly has been helpful. His behavior was so erratic yesterday I was too busy yelling at him to realize it was Mother's Day. So, thanks for that, kid. I owe you one. My wife, Sonia sat me down on Saturday and had me re-watch the movie "Bridesmaids." That helped too. And I didn't even have to yell at it! But I did laugh.
I've also found that people have different ways of showing support. Some people will corner me with a "How you doin'?" and actually expect a salient response. While others simply send the same thought via text message. Others even walk right up and hug me. In short, I appreciate all of it. Especially since the pain is going to be spread out over time, not just confined to the day of the funeral.
Some of my happiest moments have been followed immediately by extreme sadness, and vice versa. Seeing my younger son Nate laugh fills me with joy. Then I remember how much he looks like his Grandmother, and how he'll never know her. But maybe in this case the cliche is true- if we keep her memory alive, then she's not really gone. I overheard Sonia last night pointing to a picture and asking Antonio who he saw. "That's my Grandma!" he said with a satisfied grin. I smiled and my eyes filled my tears. His inherent innocence is as uplifting as it is heartbreaking.
I still have old voicemails from both Mom and Grandma saved on my phone- even one from the day of Mom's death, asking if I'd heard from her. I've wondered whether that's healthy or not. But regardless, there they sit. I once watched a TV show where a man lost his girlfriend to a drug overdose and repeatedly called her cell phone afterward just to hear her voice. When I saw it, I thought he was nuts. Now he doesn't seem so crazy.
I should add that I feel my Grandma got short-changed in the grief department. Her death, if it had happened independent of Mom's, would've been a major family loss in and of itself. It's kind of like getting a new bike and a new 60-inch TV for Christmas. You still love the bike. And I love Grandma dearly. She was a fixture at every family event since I was born and likely would've lasted another ten years if Mom hadn't passed.
I'll end this on a lighter note. I keep Mom's cell phone in my dresser drawer. The other day I turned it on to see if anyone had tried sending her any messages. I have to say I was tempted to make some calls. Just to scare the shit out of people.
Thanks for reading, and of course, for supporting me.
-jdp
jdeprospero@gmail.com
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