The first month after your loved one dies is perhaps one of the scariest,
most dreaded times in a person’s life.
Losing a spouse, a parent, a child is devastating. But somehow, you will get through.
I know you don’t think you will.
But there’s this little thing called breathing. Your body does it whether you want it to or not.
Your heart can be breaking, your gut wrenched, and you can feel as if you will truly lose your mind–and your body will continue to take its next breath. There will be times when you don’t want to breathe. You don’t want to live–the pain is so intense. Just let your body get your through for now.
It’s a divine design–to keep our heart and lungs on automatic.
I’m sure I would have either forgotten or opted not to breathe, not to allow my heart to pump if I had any say in the matter. But this sheer involuntary response is the only way to go on during those early days of grief.
Death comes in many forms–by way of an accident, or after a long agonizing illness–it’s never easy.
Even when you’ve been caregiving for years and you know your loved one is no longer suffering, almost everyone has a difficult time letting go.
Why? Why is it so difficult to watch death take those we love–even after pain and suffering, and even old age?
I believe because there’s something in us that deeply believes in the eternal.
Our brains do not compute that life is simply cut off. I’m not basing this on any particular religion or theology–I’m basing this on biology–we cannot comprehend that someone we know and love was here yesterday–and is not here today. Those who look at this purely scientific would say that it’s mere habit–but something in me feels that it’s more.
Why, after practicing a lifetime of faith, and believing with all our hearts that we will see our loved one again–is it still so hard to stand next to their lifeless, breathless body and kiss them goodbye?
The same reason a toddler cries for his/her mother. We don’t like separation.
And those early days of separation are very, very difficult.
What’s it like? That first month?
Experiencing a death of someone we love–at any age, and for any reason, usually means that we go into shock. Not only have I experienced the death of several loved ones, like you, I have many family and friends who have also experience grief and loss.
By looking at these first few days and weeks, we can begin to see a pattern–in ourselves and others. It’s less scary to know that we’re not alone, and that our bizarre thoughts and actions are something others experience as well.
What is shock?
It’s our body’s response to trauma or pain.
Physically, speaking, shock is when the body isn’t getting enough oxygen. It can occur after an injury when the body shuts down (the blood stays close to the heart to preserve life at its core level–or it can occur after a severe emotional trauma.
- A sudden physical or biochemical disturbance that results in inadequate blood flow and oxygenation of an animal’s vital organs.
- A state of profound mental and physical depression consequent to severe physical injury or to emotional disturbance.
If you’ve ever experienced shock (yourself or by witnessing it in another person), one of its prime characteristics is that you’re probably not reacting to pain (physically or emotionally) as you would expect.
Car accident victims can walk around with a head wound or internal injury–and only after minutes or even hours does the body “compute” the damage and begin to react. This may give the person time to rescue a child or get out of a fire.
Emotional trauma shock can present with similar symptoms–the person may talk or act rather normal, even when you would expect them to cry or scream or fall apart. They might eventually do all those things–but it may be weeks or months later. The mind has the ability to stay “in shock” much longer than the body–and it will usually only allow the person to really feel and experience the deepest levels of grief when it’s safe.
The movie, Reign Over Me is a great example of emotional shock.
Adam Sandlerplays a man who lost his wife and children during 9/11. He spends years in “shock,” and the exploration of how this man deals with grief in an unconventional way–and the arguments that the social and mental health community make to try to “fix” him, is interesting.
Every person’s journey with grief and loss is different. Honor yours.
Trust your gut, your shock will get you through.
During the first month you might: (no two people are the same)
- Be able to plan an elaborate funeral or memorial service
- Hold yourself together–be courteous, thoughtful and polite
- Look healthy and strong
- Go back to work days or weeks after your loved one passes
- Feel euphoric–an urgency to get on with life
- Plan a trip, go shopping, or other ordinary things
- Go off with friends and do things you haven’t been able to do in a long time
But…if you observe grief and shock a little closer, you’ll notice things aren’t quite what they appear on the surface.
You might also:
- Feel high strung, nervous, agitated
- Can’t pay attention, get bored or antsy with people
- Suffer from insomnia
- Have a panic or anxiety attack when you’re out in public
- Zone out and not remember where you are
- Feel guilty and think you caused your loved one to die (by taking them to the hospital, or not taking them, or a myriad of other decisions you had to make)
- Forget things–your keys locked in the car, your wallet at the gas station
- Avoid falling apart or crying because you may feel like once you start, you won’t be able to stop
- Have nightmares, even scary dreams of your loved one coming back alive–but not alive
- Become obsessed with something–putting your affairs in order, doing something your loved one nagged you about but you put off–but now you’re doing it to excess
- Do something, anything to feel alive–gamble, go to Vegas, visit online chat rooms, shop too much, eat too much
- You may start to snap at people–or cling–can’t let yourself be alone
- Your emotional pendulum keeps swinging wider and wider
Practical Things You Typically Do The First Month:
- File for and receive the death certificate (that’s tough)
- Contact your life insurance
- Decide when or if to go back to work
- Comfort others around you–children, friends, even when you don’t feel like it
- Cancel credit cards and put your house or car in your name only
- Pay the bills associated with your loved one’s passing–funeral expenses, etc.
- Decide to buy or sell certain items
- Figure out how to pay the bills or deal with repairs–whatever your spouse/loved one did that you now must do
- Catch up with your lfe–if your loved one was ill, there may be many things that need your attention now
- Write thank you notes and figure out how to handle your relationships with this new change
Emotionally You’ll Have To:
- Make calls and let businesses know your loved one has passed
- Talk to many family and friends–and some of them will be awkward and say the “wrong” thing
- Walk back in your house, your bedroom, drive his car–feel his/her presence and be faced with your loss
- Sleep in the bed he’s/she’s no longer in
- Deal with clothes, cars and other personal items–even if you don’t start sorting and deciding what you keep, they are with you–in your house and your life
- Allow your brain and heart to assimilate that your loved one’s not here for you to call–to talk to
- Wake up and think he’s/she’s still there
- Feel alone and lost even when you’re busy
- Figure out who you are now and what to do with your time and energy
- Think about that “first” that is to come–first birthday without him, holiday without her–and make a plan
- Literally survive the best you can
For most people, the first month is a blur.
At times, you’re in bone crushing grief alternting with an odd euphoric gotta-get-out feeling.
You can bite someone’s head off or not even care if the shoes on your feet were on fire.
There’s a lot to do, and that list of wrapping things up and starting anew at least keeps your keep moving. The good news is: you probably won’t remember most of this.
Shock does a whammy on the brain. You may feel like you’ve put your skin on inside out–and your nerve endings are exploding–but later, there will be many things you can’t recall.
Your body is protecting you. Let it. J
As crazy, lost, alone, scattered, numb, and frantic as you feel in those first months, know that as hard as it is to believe, it won’t last forever.
Just breathe.
Carol D. O’Dell
Author of Mothering Mother, available on Kindle
Carol is a family advisor at www.Caring.com
Very well thought out post. I am a CPA and I help people save money on funerals. I give all my clients a resource kit that includes articles on grief resolution and financial considerations after death.
So many people are woefully unprepared (both emotionally and financially) for death.
Thanks for sharing your wisdom
-mike
–http://www.funeral-tips.com
Thanks for an excellent post. You have dealt with a very significant time with great sensitivity and practicality. While you talk about breathing, I think about ‘getting one foot in front of the other.’ Look forward to future posts.
Jean
My husband passed away on 6.1.13 age 55yrs with cancer,I’m 52yrs and can’t stop crying ,can’t eat or sleep my doctor gave me sleeping pills and a number to phone,cruise,but they have a waiting list 2 month they say ,I feel like no body out there to help .
My dad just died on March 8th at age 80 after 18 years with Alzheimer’s. I miss him so much. Thanks so much for this, for reminding me to just breathe.
Reblogged this on Raisin's Lifestyle and commented:
My family is going through another tough loss. My brother passed away on March 22. I’m still feeling a bit shocked and very sad. The grief comes in waves. The following blog provides some kind insight on the grieving process.
My husband died two weeks ago due to undetected atriovenous malformation. It was so sudden, abrupt without any warnings nor medical symptoms he passed away in a blink of an eye. I have a 1 year old kid, who needs support hence I decided to go back to work after two weeks. However, let me share not everyone would understand that you’re grieving. I am infact dead inside, I feel like a zombie walking around, feeling nothing. But I have a kid. My son needs food, sustenance and a mother. The pain in my chest is unbearable- to be precise- if only I have a way to shut my heart down so as not feel the anything, I would. I love my husband so much but reality bites and I have my baby depending on me. Prayer with action is my key to survive, slowly day by day. I am still grieving without a doubt.
L MITCHELL
MY HUSBAND OF 24 YRS. PAST AWAY 3 WEEKS AGO. HE HAD HEALTH ISSUES BUT HE DIED SO SUDDENLY. I TRIED TO REVIVE HIM AND IT DIDNT WORK. I BARELY HAVE FAMILY EXCEPT MY 2 GIRLS WHO IM SO THANKFUL FOR.BUT IT SEEMS AS THOUGH EVERYONE JUST WANTS TO MOVE ON WITH LIFE AND THAT I SHOULD. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO OR WHO I AM MYSELF AS A PERSON IM A VERY PRIVATE PERSON AND I FEEL INVISIBLE HE WAS MY SOULMATE AND HE MADE ME FEEL LOVED UNCONDITIONALLY MY WHOLE EXISTANCE WAS THROUGH HIM AND VISA VERSA. WHAT DO I DO KNOW AND HOW DO I FIND MYSELFI HAVE NO CLUE WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF
Carol O’Dell, this is a great article. Please add a picture to the article!!! Reason being is I want to save this on Pinterest and we can’t unless a photo is attached.
I found this when I was googling about how long people stay in shock. I was in shock, numb for at least 9-10 months after a house fire where I lost everything. I was just really numb and confused. I would cry then start laughing, I didn’t know how to feel and was completely unable to make decisions. Too afraid to make any.
I had a counselor tell me I was “sensitive” three months after the fire. That made me angry, I believe she never studied shock before. I never knew I was in shock till a friend pointed it out to me. I should have went on depression medication, but didn’t know at the time. It will ease pain and though it take at least 4 to 6 weeks to fully work, it is worth it as it helps.
Blessing to others who had loss!!!
Thank you for this. I just experienced a shock this morning. The anxiety/panic/shock, the physical feeling, of what’s happened to me. Many of my best friends, who I have known for so long, long before this social network and smartphone dilemma swept the world, are no longer friends. They don’t answer calls. They don’t respond to emails. They only know how to use social networks and smartphones. They’re addicted, locked-in, unresponsive or in a few cases, respond with severe angst I’ve never seen. The addiction has so much hold on them. I’ve had to remove them from my contact list. I’ve been dealing with this for years, but today it all came crashing down and I feel like I want to throw-up. I’ve been calling new friends and the old ones that managed to maintain connection, letting them know I care about them, love them, thanking them for their friendship in this silent crisis that is happening now.
I needed to look over symptoms for the shock and found this article. I had been wondering why I was only getting five hours sleep a night for the last week or two. Now I know. This was building up. It needed a trigger and today it came in my metaphor of the social-landscape being changed and having the same effect as a flood. I even imagined my lost friends drowning in this flood, or finding a raft and leaving to another planet, never to be heard from again. I took some ginger for my stomach. Not sure how long this terrible feeling will last. All the other stages of grief I’ve been going through, but the shock of it, the panic, finally came this morning.
For all encountering this same nightmare, and I know there are many, I would love to find a way to organize us, find out people again, find our way out of this nightmare. And knowing for very sure and certain, we are not alone, and this terrible tragedy is real and requires grief.
I liked this article very much, it explains a lot about how I am feeling right now. At 2 am this morning my Mother died. I have been her caretaker for 4 years and she lived with me. I did not have a good relationship with my Mother growing up and even as an adult we did not speak for years. I was abused as a child and mentally assaulted, as an adult, by my mom. When my Mom became ill, I took her in and began the role of caregiver 24/7. I learned to love my Mother during this time. We became closer but not as close as she was to other family members. She did tell me thank you every day and tell me at one point that I was a God send to her.There were moments when she would say something, complain, have self pity, that these things drove me insane. I found myself avoiding her, except for necessary care and feedings. I did not spend a lot of time watching television with her or even just sitting and talking to her. I never felt comfortable around her. I always felt like I needed to get away from her. Even though she was ill, her death was a shock to me. My son went to check on her and she had expired. We tried CPR to no avail. The paramedics came and continued CPR and got nothing the coroner called her death at 2 am, this morning. I do not know how I feel??? numb, relief, sadness, shock, guilt for not spending more time with her and for not being able to grieve? I have been mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted for over a year. I should be feeling deep sorrow and crying, I should not be feeling relief. I am unable to sit still for long and have already gone through her clothes and paperwork. What is wrong with me? Am I insane or devoid of sympathy. When my husband died I cried and felt such sadness and when my son was murdered a year after my husband died, I was inconsolable. I still cry for the loss of these two in my life. Why can I not feel the same emotion for my Mother? Am I not capable of forgiving her on a level that I do not understand, for the pain she caused me most of my life? I thought that I had dealt with these feelings a long time ago. What is wrong with me? I am ashamed and fearful. I keep thinking that she is still here in a different form and am watching all that I do, and say. I did learn to love my mother so why can I not grieve? Thank you for letting me get this off my chest. Any replies would be welcomed.
[…] death, the moment it happens we can feel that we aren’t equipped. The shock can last for weeks, months or years. If we do not give time and space for grief, it can be difficult for it to leave […]
Thank you for this post. It’s a great comfort to find people who understand, and who have the generosity to share their wisdom.
My wife of 17 years died august 5th 2017 she was 45 and in hospital after collapsing for 5 month. She had remarkable recovered her high brain functions. Only to have bacteria infection enter her blood stream the last night of her life she could see through her left eye i got our 9 years old to say goodnight mommy i love you before falling to sleep between her legs my father bid my wife who he thought more as a daughter than a daughter in law i bid her good night i love you and i will be here for you my father held her left hand while held her right arm because all the tubes we kissed for the last time it was difficult because she was on a ventilator. Her blood pressure kept dropping even with large amount of medication we had been awake for over 40 hour and fell alseep for 5 minute in that time her heart stopped and no blood pressure. Its so hard to deal with the only good thing i have done was to show cady our son dad and myself before she passed away. I show my emotions dont hid them everyone know how much in love we were and still are people say be strong it is heartbreaking enought no matter what people say nothing can take the place one that you love i have a golden flower from my wife our son who cant understand mommy is in heaven. He has only me now. Please anyone dont say be strong to one who is greaving only makes it worse for them
Your article has helped me to realise I am not losing it completely after the death of my husband three weeks ago. I’ve been feeling like I’m crying on the inside and your comment about feeling like your skin is on inside out resonates with me. I am feeling crushed in a way I never have before and I can’t imagine that I won’t feel like this for ever.
Yes… 💔