Everyone who knows me, knows that I don't fit the picture society paints of grace. Well put together, classy, polite at every moment-that is definitely not me. But what society doesn't show us is the true meaning of grace. Loving every person we come into contact with despite their faults, character flaws and indiscretions toward us. This lesson Gram taught me has led me to become a wonderful social worker, and a person I am proud to be on a daily basis. Without this lesson, I do not know where I would be. I fear that I would not be in a job that I love, attempting to fill the lives of the most hopeless and unlovable people with a glimmer of hope lit by my acceptance of their flaws.
Even though I am able to be thankful for these lessons, and carry Gram with me on a daily basis, it wouldn't be fair of me to say that I am okay with her death. Or that I have completely grieved the loss of one of the most beautiful souls I have had the privilege of knowing. In fact, I would say the complete opposite. And as I write this I begin to think that maybe I am not the epitome of the grace that was taught by Gram, and perhaps I am the opposite. I am still angry that a routine procedure turned into over 2 weeks on life support. I still want to scream when I think of the countless mistakes that were made in Gram's care that led her to living her last days kept alive by machines. I want to tear into the doctor who looked me in the eyes and lied to me telling me that, "she is going to recover from this" rather than being a man and shooting it straight to me-after I begged him for honesty. I am angry, and there is no doubting this lack of acceptance would not be considered graceful by Gram.
With 3 years under my belt as a hospice social worker, I thought I would move quickly through the Stages of Grief that I would venture to say every individual passes through. However, I seem to be stuck in the Anger stage, angry with everyone including God, the doctors, and even myself for not letting my Gram know every single day how much she meant and continues to mean to me, even after her untimely death. I hate that I am stuck in this phase, and even though I know grief is individual and everyone's journey is like a rollercoaster filled with highs and lows, I am exceptionally hard on myself for being stuck in anger.
I think that part of the reason I have found myself stuck in the anger stage is due to my lack of allowing myself to feel all of the feelings I have about Gram's death. It is so much easier to be mad at everyone and everything about losing one of my best friends, than to feel sadness. And it is even harder yet to accept that I will never see her face or hear her sweet angelic voice ever again. So instead I allow my blood to boil thinking of that doctor I mentioned before, or the fact that we were mislead about treatment and therefore kept Gram alive much longer than we would have if given the truth about her condition and the ultimate outcome.
So where do I go from here? I guess if I go back to what I wrote about in my New Year's post, I should try to figure out a way to make the next year less angry, and more graceful and accepting; like Gram would want. I also guess this means I need to add to my list of resolutions and goals for 2015 and allow myself to move through the grieving process. I am not sure what that means exactly, but I know that something needs to change or I will live the rest of my life being angry about Gram being taken away from me. And that is not what she would want. She would want me to move forward, to think of her and accept her death, and to have nothing but happy thoughts about the times we had together; the lessons she taught.
The lessons Gram taught me helped me counsel so many people through the grief process helping them to reach ultimate acceptance. However, I am not sure which direction to tell myself to venture down this path. I have encouraged people to write letters, go to counseling, and to talk openly about the memories they have of their loved one; but none of this seems right to me. I am kind of lost on this one, and maybe that is not a good thing to "admit" in a blog dedicated to helping people become a better version of themselves; but it is honest. Incredibly honest. And how can I help others if I don't admit my own weaknesses and faults?
This honesty was taught by Gram, and I believe as I write this post to share with you is the first step to my ability to accept her death. If I use this honesty, I am able to see the senselessness in my anger. Wanting to rip a doctor's head off won't bring Gram back, and it sure as hell won't make me move forward in accepting her death. And since I am being honest, I don't know where I will start. I don't know what the first step is, and I honestly continue to feel stuck.
While I am still stuck, this post has been cathartic and I hope that maybe, just maybe this is the first step. As I journey into this New Year, I hope to find my way through the peaks and valleys of grief and on my road to acceptance. As angry as I continue to be, I know that Gram is watching over me and will help me along my way. I will continue this path with Gram and grace in my heart, and hopefully by this time next year, I will be able to tell you that I have reached acceptance and will be filled with less anger and more happiness as we remember my Gram on the anniversary of her death.
In Memory of
Marian Louise Fischer Yatsko
1935-2014
No comments:
Post a Comment