The Need For Permanent Support
I’ve found that people tend to receive the most support for their grief within the days to weeks after someone dies. This is when people are most likely to offer condolences, physically show up, and offer meals. At least, that’s how it went for my family.
On the day my dad died, we were surrounded by people. Half of my sister’s class showed up to be with us, several of my mom’s friends rushed over, and one of my friends came straight over after getting her tonsils removed. There were even teachers from my school there. They held us as we cried and made sure we weren’t alone.
There were probably about 15 people who followed us back to our house afterwards. I remember driving back to my house in the back of one of my sister’s friend’s old, dark green sedan. I was sitting right behind the driver’s seat. I don’t remember who else was in the car, but I remember it being full of chatting people and loud music. I was too busy staring at the darkening sky as we pulled out of the hospital parking lot for the last time and into our driveway for the first time as a family of three.
Those people stayed with us all night. Our kitchen was filled with food. I don’t remember how any of it got there, but the next thing I knew, I was in my basement with a plate full of baby carrots and hummus. Our family friends got on a schedule of bringing us meals. There would be food on our doorstep every night, ranging from elaborate salads to chicken with vegetables. The last thing we had to worry about was cooking.
Well, that lasted for about two weeks. Then, the meals stopped coming. People stopped showing up. I went back to school, and people started pretending none of it ever happened in the first place. It was business as usual in the real world, but I was trying to claw my way out of the deepest despair I had ever felt. Instead of pulling myself up, I dug myself deeper and deeper until I was so far down a hole that nobody could see me anymore. In their defense, how were they supposed to know I needed help when I wasn’t even there?
The support never completely came back, and I was alone while figuring out how to navigate this world without my dad. That’s why it took me so long to find myself again. Even still, all these years later, I still find myself dealing with repercussions of that lack of support. I have such a hard time asking for help, even when the waves of grief are tsunami-strength, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
As more and more time passes, it becomes less and less acceptable to be publicly grieving. I admit, before my dad died, this made sense to me. If it had been years, there was no need to still be so sad over it, right? Oh, how wrong I was. Now, as I approach eight years without my dad, I realize more than ever that the time doesn’t make it go away, and sometimes, I need just as much support as I did back then. It’s so much harder to ask for grief support when society doesn’t recognize that it’s a necessity even after the first few weeks of someone’s death.
Last week, I ordered my graduation regalia for my doctorate degree. I was so excited thinking about my commencement ceremony, but as soon as I clicked that “order” button, I started to cry. Once again, my dad would be missing one of my graduation ceremonies. I started thinking about just how much time has passed since I last saw him. I’ve graduated from high school, undergrad, and soon, I’ll be done with grad school. I moved to Boston, I gave a TEDx talk, and I traveled to more states and countries. I’ve gotten to really, truly, live since I last saw him, and he hasn’t gotten to live at all. My upcoming graduation is just another milestone that he’ll miss, and it’s a glaring reminder that he doesn’t get to have experiences like this anymore.
I was shattered. It took the air right out of my lungs, and I broke down crying on the floor of my room, just like I did so many times when I was newly grieving at age 15. Now that I’m 23, my grief looks different on me, but even though I don’t carry it the same as I did back then, I still have moments where I feel it as strongly as I did eight years ago. It hasn’t gone away, I’ve just continued to grow around it and make space for it as I live my daily life.
This is the first time I’m admitting to this. I didn’t tell my roommates or my family about this. A part of me was afraid that they would be uncomfortable and dismiss my feelings, and the other part of me just didn’t want to deal with any pity. Instead of seeking support, I pushed it down. Now that I’ve processed those feelings, I know that hiding it wasn’t the right thing to do.
My biggest hope is that no one else ever feels this way. Whether it’s been five minutes or five years since your loved one died, however you are feeling about it is valid and deserves to be heard and supported. You deserve to be surrounded by people who will lift you up and offer you the support you need in whatever capacity that may be, whether it is through making you meals, giving you hugs, or just sitting next to you and being there.
Grief is not fleeting; it is permanent. Support needs to be permanent, too.
Cate Murphy