Category: Brain Health

Post-Holiday Grief Symptoms and Care

Did you and your grief make it successfully through the holidays?

I hope so. But don’t let your guard down just yet.

Post-holiday stress and grief accumulation can show up—right about now.

 

It was exactly ten years ago this week that my husband, Chris, and two boys were enjoying a week of skiing in the White Mountains of Arizona. The trip had been planned for months. We were excited.

That was until my father rapidly deteriorated the end of November and beginning of December and then died the evening of Friday, December 11.

The grief I experienced from his loss was deep; the pain was accentuated by the falling out (an understatement) my mother had due to the circumstances surrounding his abrupt death.

 

My bright older son had uncharacteristically tanked his sophomore semester in college after a bout with depression. He completed his final, final exam—physics—forty-five minutes before his grandfather’s funeral. His dad picked him up on a campus street corner, and he changed into “funeral” attire in the car on the way to the mortuary.

We desperately needed this ski vacation R and R, and I thought getting away would help us heal. I wasn’t prepared for what happened to me during the trip.

Several days into the trip, I felt tired but relaxed as I prepared for bed. I took my time getting ready and then lay down on the floor next to do some stretching. Chris was watching a movie on the television. Without warning, my heart galloped into race-mode. My chest tightened in fear, and then my airway cramped up. The best I could manage were jerky little breaths that definitely weren’t providing sufficient oxygen.

First I tried getting control over my breathing, but the heart pounding only intensified. My chest tightened to the point of pain. I thought I was having a heart attack, and I wondered if I should call out to Chris that he needed to call an ambulance.

 

My sports psychology kicked in.

 

I managed to roll over onto my knees and hands, and, like any trained athlete, started talking to myself. I took several deliberate hyperventilating breaths and then forced myself to take several deeper and slower ones. Seconds ticked away as my breathing became less labored, and my heart rate slowly dropped. Another minute longer and my heart beat registered normal.

And it hit me: I was having a panic attack.

But it took several more minutes of self-reflection to figure out why.

 

I had managed to pull myself together to get everything ready for the holidays and successfully get through them, but the stress of grief finally bubbled to the surface and overwhelmed my body. Not just my emotional, psychological body but my physical one. It was a perfect storm and was a perfect example of the mind-body connection.

A couple of days later, grief and melancholy struck again. As I was swooshing down a beautiful run at the top of the mountain, my gaze landed on the sweeping horizon and miles of snow-covered prairie. Instead of paying attention to what I was doing, my mind took a trip down memory lane. Happy times with my father gathered in my brain.

 

Taking your eyes off your run while skiing to gawk at the landscape isn’t recommended. Neither is losing your concentration. The inevitable happened. I splatted. Not a rough fall, but an abrupt one that knocked my conscious back to the present and my activity. I sighed. I was more tired and overwhelmed than I had imagined.

It was then that I realized I needed to be even more careful and protective of my emotions, my body, and my spirit. No matter how tough I was, or how much I thought I could handle, I wasn’t anywhere near being healed. Walking through this new type of grief would take months.

 

It wasn’t the last time I would experience a panic attack. Lying in bed one night, realizing that my father was truly gone from this earth and would not be coming back to it in my lifetime—to talk to, laugh with, get advice from, share a happy even with—sent me into another hyperventilating and heart-pounding session.

And so it is with experience that I gently suggest that you guard your heart, your body, your spirit, and your mind as you continue to walk through any new grief. Just because the holidays are over, and you’ve survived them, doesn’t mean the worst has passed.

Take extra good care of yourself, and don’t apologize to friends or family for what you may need to do—or not do—to protect yourself and heal.

Until next time,

May your 2020 be full of blessings you hadn’t expected as you continue to heal.

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro, and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Helping Others Deal With Grief Over the Holidays: Part IV

I had to make a difficult phone call yesterday.

Last night, after a day of work and an evening church meeting, I called my aunt.

Normally I would look forward to calling her because I love chatting with her. We’re like-minded, she’s sharp, she has some great life stories to tell, and she’s got a great sense of humor. We’ve gotten really close over the past ten years, especially since the untimely death of her only daughter, Jan, who fought valiantly and then succumbed to ovarian cancer ten years ago.

But yesterday’s call was difficult because it was the 40th anniversary of the death of her son Jeff, my beloved cousin and Jan’s older brother, who was killed in a tragic car accident on the icy roads in Northern California—on his way south to their home near Anaheim, California, for Christmas.

It was a devastating day. And I called her to let her know I was thinking about her.

A mother never forgets those days. Decades don’t remove the pain and regret.

 

She knew what I meant when I told her I just wanted to let her know I was thinking about her. And she thanked me and told me she appreciated it.

Then we had a really nice chat. As we talked, her spirits seemed to perk up. We caught up, laughed and loved through the satellite connection.

It was a sweet time. But the reason behind our special connection on yesterday’s date, December 16, was heartbreaking.

 

Is someone in your circle suffering loss or grief?

Does someone you know need an “I’m thinking about you today,” call? Who do you know that’s been suffering a loss of a loved one, a divorce, an estrangement from a spouse, parent or child? Who around you needs to know that someone is thinking about them during this time of extreme joy and extreme loneliness?

Reach out and connect, some way, with them today. Even a simple call can do wonders for a grieving person’s spirit. On Christmas Eve, or Christmas Day. Make sure the grieving in your circle of friends or acquaintances are watched over and loved during the holidays.

 

NEXT WEEK: Helping you deal with your own grief during the holidays.

Until then, reach out and connect.

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Helping Others Deal With Grief Over the Holidays: Part III

DO YOU KNOW anyone suffering from grief this holiday season? Are you looking for ways to lessen their heart’s pain?

Today we’ll continue with our series on grief and helping others deal better with grief deepened by holiday loneliness and melancholy. For the first and second list of suggestions, see last week’s and the previous weeks’ posts.

 

First, listen—

I mentioned this in a previous post, but I really can’t stress it enough.

Set a guard over your mouth, keep watch over the door of your lips, and

LISTEN.

Most of us are really BAD listeners. Really, REALLY bad. We’re always ten steps ahead of the speaker, figuring out what clever response we’re going to offer, or what great advice we can give that’ll really help them move forward in their grief. Advice no other bright person has been able to come up with.

Maybe we’re trying to impress ourselves, or others—or both—or maybe we’re insecure and believe dead space or no response is a sin. But it’s not.

 

One of the best responses I ever received after the death of our baby daughter was from the head boss where I was teaching. He blinked at me a couple of times before saying, “Gee, I really don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I don’t have any idea what you’re going through.”

Even though I didn’t have warm and fuzzy feelings for this guy (he was kind of a brute and bully), I so appreciated his honest response. He’d finally been stuck in a situation where he didn’t have an answer, and he was honest enough to admit it.

I voiced my appreciation. “Thank you. That’s the best thing you could have said to me right now.”

He sighed in relief.

So when you’re really interested in helping a grieving friend, acquaintance or co-worker, invite them out for lunch or coffee and let them talk, or not. Find out more about their loved one. If they’re a person of faith, ask if you can pray for them. Maybe ask them that even if you don’t know their faith background. Invite them to share some of their best memories of their loved one.

And then just clam up, and listen.

If you do think you might have some helpful advice, do not start out by telling them what they should do. You can, however, tell them what helped you in the same situation, or someone you know who survived the grieving process.

 

Don’t make judgment calls—

When a loved one dies, the surviving person’s life is turned upside down. If they now have to make decisions they’ve never made, or manage things they’ve never managed before, they’re likely to feel overwhelmed and paralyzed. And they’re likely not even thinking straight.

Grief has a way of screwing up your mental processes. You can’t make decisions, you can’t remember things, you feel unbalanced and out-of-touch with the rest of the world—which seems to be oblivious to your loss or pain.

Cut the grieving person a lot of slack, and don’t expect too much from them. While they might have a lot of energy to plan funerals or memorial services, that energy will likely disappear quickly and leave the person disoriented.

I’ve heard it said that while losing a child is the most painful experience any parent can go through, losing a spouse is the most disorienting. I can personally attest to the first. I have close friends and relatives who can attest to the second.

Allow—expect—the grieving person to be and act disoriented, angry, lost, anti-social, etc.

Your understanding and presence are more important than advice.

 

Don’t expect them to talk—

If a grieving person decides to join you for a holiday event, or go to a movie with you, or out to lunch, don’t expect them to talk. They might be too exhausted—physically or mentally—to do much communicating. And they’ll be grateful that you didn’t expect much out of them.

Or, in an attempt to cover up their pain, they might be extra chatty. Just plan to do a lot of nodding and sympathizing.

And if they turn you down, be okay with that too. Grieving people often need space to just, well—grieve. Without eyeballs hovering around. They want to lose it. Scream to the heavens. Pound their pillows and exhaust themselves.

But if you haven’t seen or heard from a grieving person for a few days, or week or more, give them a call or text to let you know you’re thinking about them and are available anytime they might want to talk or rant. Let them know you love them.

This is their grief, and they need to handle it their way.

 

NEXT WEEK, we’ll head into some specific things to NOT say to grieving people, especially those who have lost children and will face their first Christmas without that child. If you’re a grandparent, you’ll want to read this advice too.

Until then, be on the lookout for grieving people you can minister to and pray that God will give you the right words to say.

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Helping Others Deal With Grief Over the Holidays: Part II

DO YOU KNOW anyone suffering from grief this holiday season? Are you looking for ways to lessen their heart’s pain?

Today we’ll continue with our series on grief and helping others deal better with grief deepened by holiday loneliness and melancholy. For the first list of suggestions, see last week’s post: “Helping Others Deal With Holiday Grief Part I”.

 

Don’t be afraid to name names—

Although it’s tempting to tiptoe around using a deceased person’s name, it’s best that you not fear using the deceased person’s name, even if it triggers tears in the grieving person. If you knew the deceased, let the grieving person know how much you’ll miss their loved one or friend. Just offering a comment, like: “I’m sorry for your loss,” can sound impersonal. If you’re sorry, say it, but also identify the person by name. Validate that the person hasn’t disappeared from the grieving person’s conscientious, even though they are out of their daily life.

For years—more than sixty, to be more specific—my mother referred to my older sister, her first baby, who died in utero due to umbilical cord strangulation, as “that baby.” I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—identify her by name. As though it hurt less to name her or think of her as a real human being.

I always refer to my older sister—who I have never met—as “Cheryl,” which is what they named her. Cheryl Ray Arthur.

I always say my deceased baby’s name when referring to her—Victoria. Of course, I held her in my arms and loved her for a brief day. Something my mother wasn’t given the option to do. My dad made the decision to not allow my mom to see her. I know he was probably trying to protect my mom, but I’m sure it didn’t help in the grieving process—to not be able to hold the baby you’d carried and felt for nearly nine months. Doctors and nurses are now wiser about such things.

 

Go beyond the general question—

Think of asking something deeper than “How are you?”

I know. It’s the easiest, most common question to ask a grieving person. But the answer is usually pretty obvious. They’re not doing well. From a really close friend, it might sound sincere. But more often it sounds more like an everyday, pat question.

Instead, try digging deeper into their feelings, with a question like: “How are you feeling today?” Or “Is today a good day or a rough day?” And then let them open up. Or not.

 

Be sure to offer the grieving person hope—

This is great advice, as long as you don’t venture into making pat comments like “It was God’s will,” or “It must have been for the best.” If the grieving person offers these comments first—as many will do after watching a loved one deteriorate and suffer with cancer—then you may feel freer to agree with them. You might even feel free to rejoice with them that their loved one is no longer suffering.

But the best advice is to let them take the lead. And assure them that as bad as it feels right now, as black as the valley feels, they will get through it. At the same time, assure them that it’s okay to grieve, and that everyone grieves at their own pace. Encourage them to not allow others to push them along, or pay heed to those that tell them to be tough, to pull them up by their bootstraps and get on with life.

Assure them that others will be by their side as much or as little as they want as they walk the path of grief. Encouraging them to join a grief group, or take them to one, can also be helpful and feel supportive. Being with others who are suffering through the loss of a loved one can be encouraging. It goes a long way to not feel so alone.

When you first experience the pain of loss, you’re tempted to feel as though no one else on earth has ever experienced the pain you’re going through. Hearing others talk about their pain can help soothe your throbbing heart.

 

We’ll leave it there for today, but next week we’ll have more tips on helping others manage their grief as they slog through the holidays.

Until then, hold your loved ones closely and rejoice over the time you have with them, not matter how limited that time may be.

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Helping Others Deal With Holiday Grief: Part I

Before I get started today, I want to apologize for missing the last two Meditation Monday installments. The engineer and I enjoyed a lovely respite in the mountains of Southern California, where we hiked some trails—including a tiny part of the Pacific Crest Trail—and generally reveled in the crisp fall weather and falling leaves.

Then, promptly upon my arrival home, I succumbed to either a food-borne illness or stomach virus. Whatever it was, it was nasty! And I am SO glad to be back in the land of the living!

 

But let’s get into our topic of grief, which we’ll be covering through the end of the year.

 

What kind of grief?

I was reminded of the different faces of grief when talking to a dear friend moving away from Tucson to live near her daughter in another state. She’s been a widow for five years, but she’ll be suffering a different kind of grief this Thanksgiving and Christmas. One having to do with a son that suffers from a mental illness and won’t be celebrating the holidays with his family this year.

Another friend of mine deals with the same issue—a child with a mental illness. While all things are looking good right now, you never know when the other shoe will drop. Hard.

 

Just how do you console a friend who’s dealing with this kind of raw grief? A grief of fear about the future, fear of dying dreams, fear of having lost control, or realizing one never really possesses that?

The stages of grief for someone suffering this way aren’t too different from the stages of grief someone goes through when losing a loved one. But they can be more intense than the emotions a loved one goes through when losing, say, a parent who has been sick for some time, or in very poor health. Like an Alzheimer’s patient who has been suffering for years and their family that has had to take the “long goodbye” journey with them.

 

How you can help a grieving person, especially during the holidays?

While you can’t remove the deep pain of grief people often experience during the holidays, there are steps you can take to help them navigate the holiday landmines.

Be present.

Don’t just let them know you’re available or a phone call away, call them and schedule a lunch date, an outing, a time to get together. Or just a phone call to let them chat and share their p ain. Your presence alone will let them know just how much they’re loved, and remembered.

Allow them to grieve.

Bury your uncomfortable feelings about being around grieving people. Be brave and don’t fear wading into the pain with them. Don’t let their neediness drive you away. Be prepared to go the distance with the, to walk with them through their agony.

Listen!

Let them rant. Let them reminisce. Let them agonize over their loss, fear and loneliness. Mirror back to them what they’re saying without trying to give them advice or fix it. Be patient when what they say doesn’t make sense or they can’t concentrate or make decisions.

Get involved in the memories.

If a friend or loved one is joining you for the holidays, ask the grieving person how you might help them reminisce or mark the loss?

Stay flexible.

Don’t pressure a grieving person to get involved, or tell them what they need. Encourage them to join you for the festivities or meals, but don’t push. Respect their need to grieve privately, and let them know they are always welcome, even if they don’t—or can’t—make a decision until the last minute.

If the person doesn’t join you, make sure you call that day, or the next, to check in with them.

Help.

Most grieving people won’t ask for help. Often, they feel overwhelmed and don’t know what they need.

Offer to help around the house—cleaning, laundry, errand running. Maybe a grieving friend might enjoy company while grocery shopping. Maybe they don’t even have enough energy to go shopping and would love to have some meals—or groceries delivered.

Years ago, an overwhelmed friend of ours had to move herself and her three young daughters into a tiny two-bedroom apartment after having to leave her abusive, alcoholic husband. We knew she was barely making ends meet.

I also knew that if I called her to ask open-ended questions about any help she might need, she would be too uncomfortable asking for anything. So, I got in the habit of calling her prior to one of my grocery shopping runs to ask her for a list of items she needed. I didn’t ask if she needed anything; I asked her what she needed.

She gave me a list, and I shopped for two and dropped off her items on the way home. She was beyond grateful. And I was only too happy to pay back in some way for the loving gestures of people who kept my family well-fed while I was bedridden during my last pregnancy.

Adopt a family for the holidays.

The engineer and I also adopted a family of a single mother and several children who wanted so much to visit her parents in another city for Christmas. We provided a basket full of snack food for their drive, and a bunch of cash stuffed inside the food basket for gas money and some treats. We left them with their basket before they opened it. A tearful phone call from the mom the next day, after they’d opened the gift, told us everything we needed to know about our gift. It was better than anything I received myself that Christmas.

 

 

Next week, I’ll offer more ideas for helping others manage grief during the holidays.

Until then, think of those in your circle that might be suffering grief over the holidays—loss of a loved one, grieving a family member’s addiction or mental illness, recent cancer or serious health diagnosis. Figure out how you can reach out to them, and then take the step.

Blessings,

and a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.