5 Ways to Cope with Grief from a Mother

It was Cinco de Mayo in Houston, Texas, 1995, where almost all Texans celebrate this popular event. My 27 year old daughter, Alizi, was driving home from work that evening.  The freeways in Houston on a day like Cinco de Mayo are treacherous, and that night was no exception.  A drunken driver barreled his Ford pick-up truck into the back of my daughter’s small Toyota hurling her out onto the pavement.  The impact smashed her brain, and she died of her injuries at the hospital.   I was devastated when the doctor told us she was brain dead.  Yet, as dead as I felt myself, I donated her organs – her eyes, her heart, her lungs, and her kidneys – and found some consolation in knowing that a part of her was living somewhere in someone else’s body.

Three years later, my son, Aldo, committed suicide in our home.  My son was in the Marine Reserves, having served nine years already. He was very disciplined and punctual.  On Saturday, November 7^th, he was supposed to go on duty at 7:00 a.m.  When I woke up that morning at 7:30, I noticed that his car was still in the driveway.  I rushed into his room thinking he had overslept.  The next few seconds seemed to be in slow motion. I opened the door and saw him standing by the poster bed which had a big, sturdy frame around it. Then I realized he was not standing; he was hanging under the frame. He was dead and rigor mortis had set in. Shock and anger filled me.  All I could think was “This isn’t true.  This can’t be happening, God!”  Somehow I found the strength to take him down from the karate belt he had tied to the frame and set him on the floor so that I could give him mouth to mouth resuscitation. I tried and I tried desperately, alternating with CPR, but to no avail. He was gone. How could he do this?  How could I survive loosing another child that I loved so dearly? And why didn’t I go crazy?

My husband rushed in when he heard the scream.  “Oh, my God!  Oh, my God!”  was all he could say.  He called 911 from the phone in the kitchen.  Alone in the bedroom with my son, as I was giving him CPR, I felt I was not alone.  I felt someone was watching me.  Someone I couldn’t see was close to me protecting me. Maybe that is why I didn’t go crazy. The thought that either God, or an angel, or maybe even my son’s spirit was protecting me calmed me for a while.

The next few days were a haze.  The weeks passed and turned into months.  During this time, I learned to listen to my thoughts and to my heart.  I felt that someone who loved me was guiding me through my thoughts.  Maybe it was the fact that I was a teacher, and I loved my students with all my heart. I believe love begets love.  I thought about my own children and what they had loved to do.  My daughter was an artist and a poet.  My son had a passion for Tai Chi and karate.  So, I enrolled in a Tai Chi class where I learned to meditate.  I also began to draw and appreciate poetry.  At school, I taught my students how to draw and how to write poetry. These activities were therapeutic for me.  On certain mornings, after my Tai Chi routine, I would sit under a tree and meditate.  In my concentration, I would envision my son and my daughter coming to meet me.  We would hold hands and smile at each other.  In that instant, I understood that they were fine and at peace in heaven. 

Without realizing it, in time, I found several ways to deal with my grief.  Here are five methods that worked very well for me. You might want to follow those that appeal to you or find other ways to heal yourself and cope with your grieving heart.  

• Talk. When my friends would ask me “Does it hurt for you to talk about your son or daughter?”  I would always respond, “No.  I actually feel better”.  It felt good to remember the happy memories and the wonderful things that both my children did. I read somewhere “that painful feelings held inside are like an infection festering in a wound – they need to come out in order for you to heal”. However, sometimes you need more than the support of your friends.  Consider talking with a professional counselor.
• Express your feelings in a creative way.   One of the things that gave me solace was when a tree was planted in my daughter’s memory at the school where I taught. Another way that we cherished her memory was having her paintings framed and her poems published.  You might consider writing a letter saying the things you never got to say or getting involved in an organization that was important to him or her.
• Look after your physical health.   It is very important to stay healthy even when you don’t feel like it.  Eat right, get enough sleep, and exercise.  Your body and mind will thank you for it in the long run.  Above all, don’t use alcohol or drugs to dull the pain or lift your mood artificially.
• Have fun.  I knew that going out or celebrating someone’s birthday would cause people to wonder whether I cared enough about my children or not. One thing that helped me get on with life was not focusing on what people thought about me.  I didn’t care what anyone thought.  I knew what was in my heart and that was enough for me. Don’t feel guilty about having fun, whether it's reading a good book, watching a movie, playing cards, or continuing other activities. Keep living and having occasional fun. It is part of living.
• Plan ahead for special occasions.  Thanksgiving was the first holiday after my son’s death.  I knew it would be difficult if we had a traditional dinner.  I suggested having a picnic on Palomar Mountain.  My husband, my sister, my miniature poodle, and I spent a perfectly good time celebrating Thanksgiving with nature surrounding us. Every holiday after that has been slightly different, enjoyable and stress free. You might want to talk with family members about your concerns and suggest that this may be a good time to introduce new traditions for special occasions.

One last thing I’d like to mention, grief is different for everyone. It all depends on our experiences and our character and our outlook on life. “How long will grief last?” One never gets completely over it, but if you learn to accept it, it becomes softer and different over time.  Open your heart. Love and allow others to love you.  Give of yourself with all your being.  Do good things for others and you will see your happiness eventually return.

Norma Rathgaber is the owner of the Smiling Elephant Toy Shop in Carlsbad.