Grief and The Plan of Salvation

We all grieve in different ways.  I'm old enough now to have dealt with grief on multiple occasions.  There is no right way or wrong way to grieve.  A person can deal with grief one way one time and then completely different the next time.  I have made some observations over the years, and for what it's worth I'm putting my thoughts down in case it might help someone.  Disclaimer:  I am not a grief counselor, nor do I have any training on the subject.  These are just my own observations from my personal experiences.

My first observation is that those people who have a knowledge of the plan of salvation seem to have a much easier time dealing with the death of a loved one.  A great lesson on the plan of salvation can be found here.  It explains the premortal existence, mortal life, and life after death.  There is great peace in understanding that Heavenly Father's plan includes death, but also includes the reunification of families for eternity.  What greater blessing can be given than the gift of living with our families after this life?  Knowledge of the plan of salvation is key to finding peace quickly at the death of a loved one.

Second, children need a chance to vocalize their grief.  So often we try to shelter children from hurt they need to feel.  As a child, my parents kept me away from my paternal grandmother's funeral because they felt I was too young to attend.  It wasn't until after the wake on the long drive home when it finally hit me that I wasn't going to see my grandmother again in this life.  Dad had to stop the car and talk to me.

Several years later, when my maternal grandfather passed, I asked my parents to go to the viewing prior to the funeral.  My parents had not planned on going themselves and were just planning to attend the funeral.  They talked about it in light of the first experience, and it was decided that my father should take me to the viewing.  It was a life changing experience for me.  I looked at the body in the casket, reached out my hand and touched the body and said, "He's not there."  Dad was surprised at my ability to realize that, and he confirmed to me that I was right.  We then read the 23rd Psalm together that was framed on the wall.  At this time we were not yet members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, so our knowledge of the plan of salvation was limited.  It was very important, however, that I was able to discern the difference between a body and a spirit.

Having said all this, each child deals with death differently, and I absolutely do not agree with forcing a child to attend a funeral or a viewing.  I'm also not a fan of expecting that all the adults in the family attend a funeral or a viewing.  Funerals are for the living if it helps, but not everyone can cope with attending, and I think we need to be respectful of that.

Third, there are phases in the grief process.  What one is feeling today may not necessarily be what one is feeling tomorrow.  There are many emotions that are tangled in grieving -- shock, sadness, anger, hurt, loss, depression, guilt, joy (yes, I really said joy), and much more.  Joy can be felt when thinking about the great reunion that the loved one is having with family and friends who have passed on previously.  Joy can also be felt when thinking about a future time when you will be reunited with the loved one who has passed.  Conflicting emotions can be felt at the same time.  Joy and loss, for instance, are often felt at the same time.  Sometimes the cycle of emotions can be repeated several times.

Fourth, it is necessary to forgive before one can move on.  Sometimes we can be angry at a loved one for leaving us behind.  We might be angry at another person who might have caused an accident.  We might be angry at ourselves for not expressing enough love prior to the death of a loved one.  We might be angry with God.  Forgiveness is imperative in order to have closure.  In the case of anger against God, knowledge that death is part of God's original plan in order to live with Him and our families for eternity can bring great peace.

We can grieve differently each time.  In July, 1985, my father passed.  I grieved with painting supplies.  I painted the entire inside of my house, then moved outside.  I painted the cement on the patio, walkways, and the front porch.  When there was absolutely nothing left to paint, I went to the legal office where I was working part-time in the evenings.  I worked late into the night so that I couldn't think about it.  Then one night on the way home from the office a song came on the radio that was special to Dad and me.  I pulled off on an exit, got out of my car, slammed the door so hard that I actually sprung the door, leaned on the hood of the car and just sobbed.  I had a beautiful spiritual experience at that point which I won't go into here.  After that, I was okay.  I was able to move on.

In December, 2007, my stepson was killed in a tragic Caltrans accident.  The family situation at the time was such that I felt I had to "keep it together."  I kept it together and spoke at the funeral.  I kept it together and testified before the California legislature to help pass the "move over" law.  I kept it together for a full year waiting for the Highway Patrol report to come out.  I kept it together to read and summarize the report so that other family members didn't have to read it.  I shed a few tears off and on, but basically I kept it together for three years -- and then I fell apart at the seams.  I don't remember what triggered it, but I do remember that unfortunately I was at work when it happened.  I don't recommend that form of grief, by the way.  I think I did much better with a paint roller.

However we grieve, it is important to remember that it is a process, and there is no right or wrong way to grieve.  It is also very important to let others go through the process in their own way.

Extra Tips Learned from the Highway Patrol Chaplain:  It is important to drink lots of water and eat lots of fruit during the grief process as the body dehydrates.  This is especially important in the days prior to the funeral so that it is easier to get through the funeral.  It works.  Really.

Remembering Matt

My stepson's birthday is today, and later this month is the annual highway worker safety stand down at the state capitol honoring those highway workers who have died in the line of duty. Both events trigger emotions for my entire family. Matt was killed on December 14, 2007, while filling a pot hole on the freeway. He left a wife and three children. His son was a young adult, but his daughters were only 8 and 10 years old at the time.

This single event changed our family forever. It cut us to the core. It was like taking a machete and chopping off an arm of every family member. We are not a perfect family, and like all families we have our struggles. That makes a sudden death in the family even more difficult. Matt was only 35 years old. We all left so many things unsaid. We all thought there would be plenty of tomorrows.

The process of grieving is different for everyone, but there is a process. There is shock, anger, hurt, guilt, loneliness, depression, and a hundred other emotions. Then there is forgiveness and finally peace. We're not all there yet, but we're working on it. Sometimes we think we are there and then there will be a setback, but I guess that's to be expected.

Every day there are reminders. All our cars sport orange and black magnet ribbons--reminders to "Slow for the Cone Zone." The buttons with Matt's picture that we received at the first safety stand down after his death are still displayed; one on the visor of my husband's car, and one in my office cubicle. Family pictures remind us of two things: (1) Matt was a member of our family group, and (2) every family picture taken from this point forward will be missing someone. An orange "Slow for the Cone Zone" wrist band adorns the gear shift in my husband's car. We wore them for a long time, but there is a time to move on.

Moving on means being able to think about Matt's life instead of his death. It means being able to forgive the driver who hit him at 70 mph on the exit. Moving on means being able to laugh at the silly things we remember about Matt. It means remembering the hugs, the smiles, the laughter, the teasing. Moving on is cooking the turkey neck during the holidays and then laughing because Matt was the only one who liked the neck. Moving on is being able to laugh about the Thanksgiving that we tortured Matt all day and worked him to death because he made a stupid remark about women belonging in the kitchen and men belonging in the "football room." Moving on is being able to eat green peas again without tears thinking about Matt's total disdain for peas.

Matt truly loved his family. He was a good husband, father, brother, and son. He wasn't a saint--he had his faults like the rest of us--but he was a kind, decent human being.

Every Friday Matt bought "Lunchables" as a special treat for his little girls. After his death the girls told us that as he packed their Lunchables, their Dad told them that he had a dangerous job. He wanted them to know that if he didn't come home someday, he would love them always.

Readers, please pay attention on the freeway to those men and women who keep our highways maintained, safe, landscaped, and clean. Take a minute to think about their families. Just like the rest of us, they want to go home to their spouses and children at the end of the day. Please, oh please, SLOW FOR THE CONE ZONE.