Our community has lost some great people recently. Ray’s column refers to this and his friend’s experience.
At any one time the death of a great person occurs somewhere and grief creates a chasm in someone’s life somewhere – often it’s a chasm for a whole family and community.
My niece wrote a reflection on her experience of Assisted Dying (in Australia). Her Auntie had Motor Neurone Disease and the worst stages were causing great suffering. You don’t know her Auntie or my niece. You don’t need to. You know your own grief and how you live with it or how you choose not to live with it. Some of you know too well what suffering is. It is definitely not a badge of honour but I believe it can resource us for living with meaning and empathy.
In that light, I asked my niece if I could share some of what she wrote down of her feelings and
experience.
Grief
Grief is horrendous. People deal with it in so many different ways. Wailing with tears, quiet sobs, sobering reflection or gaming to try and redirect the focus. The latter is not something I would choose but each to their own.
Watching sister’s try and make sense of losing yet another sibling. While knowing it’s coming it is still a traumatic and incomprehensible event to witness and be a part of.
It brings back memories of those loved and lost and how their departures were equally if not more painful as there was no warning.
The waiting is the worst. The silence and continual tears. What can you say to make it less painful? Absolutely nothing.
It’s heart breaking. Talking about the memories and past with times that were more cheerful with some laughs, helps for a little while and then you remember. You remember painful memories of tragic losses and the conversations that didn’t happen in those times of grief.
I’m grateful we were given the opportunity to talk, reflect and re-live such painful memories in the hope of making sense of such senseless tragedies. Unfortunately no sense can be made of heartbreaking loss.
Life is short. Most of the time you don’t know how it will end as you don’t have warning. Other times, like now, you know it’s coming but it’s still incredibly difficult.
To watch your loved one have such strength and preparedness for something so final is humbling. If only we could all have such foresight and wisdom in something so final so that suffering is minimised and time for good-byes is allowed and embraced.
It doesn’t erase the grief but allows time for loved ones to come together, support each other and offer comfort.
You were an amazing sister, devoted wife, loving mother and Nanna and an aunty who always found humour and positivity in life. It was a pleasure knowing and loving you. RIP Barbie.
