Unexpected Death

Nothing really prepares us for death.

But it remains more shocking when we’re not expecting it. In a way I guess we should all be expecting death, given it’s an inevitable and unavoidable part of life for every one of us. But we don’t usually expect death. Perhaps we are more mindful the older we get and the more loved ones we witness going on without us. But generally, death is too concrete a concept to be comprehensible to our human brains.

When death takes one of our own, our world ceases to exist in the way we’ve always known it. Time stops while we enter a limbo bubble, beyond the realms of ordinary time or daily living. Nothing seems real except that the lifeline of one has ended and ours has changed irreversibly.

The shock of sudden death sends waves of anaesthetic through our systems to soothe us until we can begin to absorb the hard-to-absorb. My system shook and cried. Then it became still and silent before succumbing to sleep. Only after sleep did the waves of shock accompanied by sadness arise again.

How can someone be here one minute and gone the next? Why don’t we get notice it’s coming?!

We know intellectually when someone has ceased to be here in bodily form, but we cannot digest this in one sitting. It’s too hard, too big, too final and too life changing, to those who remain alive.

The questions start,

“What if …”

“If only …”

“Why didn’t I …”

And none of these have answers.

Then the ‘should’ brigade step in.

“Should I do this … “

“Should I do that …”

“Should I not do this or that …”

But when it comes to the process of grief, there is

NO …

• rule book
• right or wrong
• comparisons
• two griefs the same

There is only the ongoing question of;

What do I need right now?

On the understanding that this is ever changing and sometimes we learn what we need by experiencing what we don’t. For me, crowds and noise are an absolute no, as my tolerance is the first thing to go and my irritation is the first thing to rise.

And top of the DO NOT NEED pile are:

DO NOT

• stop praying … God wants to help us with death as well as life
• push self to do what can be put down and left undone
• pretend to be ok when not
• claim not to need support when we do
• self-pressure/self-recrimination
• anything remotely resembling the stiff upper lip bs

In contrast, top of the DO NEED pile are:

• time / space
• tissues, plenty of
• water, lots – to drink and if manageable, shower in, but see above re not pressuring!
• Industrial strength deodorant (see above/is this just a peri thing?)
• Food to stop the system being physically stressed when it’s already psychologically stressed, even easy grabs like toast.
• Sleep whenever you can grab it
• Big scissors to cut yourself some serious slack
• Reminder not to put finance before health in work v time out – ongoing assessment of capacity
• Support from those who have experienced grief
• Self-compassion; large portions of
• Time alarms for anything significant while time awareness is suspended
• Friends that understand you don’t want to hear about their sister’s, uncles, neighbours’ dogs, fleas.
• Reminder that all thoughts and feelings are just that – they come, they go, accept or fight them – while reminding yourself you don’t have energy to spare
• Accept you’re going to feel emotionally and mentally fatigued while your body works to support the process of healing; don’t push to do unnecessary work during this time
• It’s a process; anything that pretends to be a short cut will turn into a long cut
• Remember grief has its own timeline and it does not end; it changes as we integrate the love for the person (and any other feelings) with the loss of them
• It’s your grief, your body, heart, mind and spirit. Only you know what you feel and what you need – go with that. If anyone wants to judge, in the words of Mel Robbins, ‘let them’!

And a note for my fellow Christians, DON’T EVER SAY,

“Oh but they’re with Jesus now”,

Especially not while wearing a huge smile.

At least not unless you want the ‘most insensitive response’ award. If Jesus cried over the death of a man he knew he was going to resurrect, I’m pretty damn sure it’s ok for us to cry over those who die and will not be resurrected.

Grief reminds us to stop.

To notice what is and what is not important. To constantly take a minute to ask,

“Does this really matter right now, if at all?”

For me, when I am writing, I can find my way through anything, including the unexpected dying of another.

And, even in the heartache of grief, there are gifts of gold. For what is more important than the gift of one another, to walk through life and death with. We need not walk alone.

Thank you God for gifting me those who walk with me, hug me, message me, call me, feed me, water me, pray with and for me and show me, I am not alone.