A Lenten food for thought

 The sound of her

 Silk skirt has

stopped.

 On the marble

pavement dust grows.

 Her empty room is

cold and still.

 Fallen leaves are

piled against the doors.

 Longing for that lovely lady

 How can I bring my

 Aching heart to rest?

That short verse written by Han Wu Ti (187-57 B.C.) on the death of his mistress comes to mind this Maundy Thursday when we reflect on the death of Christ and that of our loved ones. I published it way back in 2003 and I can’t resist reprinting it along with an article titled Learn to Mourn from the book You Can’t Afford the Luxury of a Negative Thought by Peter Williams, given to me by my friend Raoul Tidalgo who lost his father in 2001 and his mother in 2008. I’m sharing that piece, with the Han Wu Ti verse, with my friends and Funfare readers who are also in a “reflective” mood.

Learn To Mourn

This is a lifetime of goodbyes. As the years go on, you’ll say goodbye to both people (through moving, change or death) and things (youth, that semi-tight body you once had, hair, prized possessions). Eventually, you’ll say goodbye to it all with your own death.

Learning to mourn, to grieve, to say a good goodbye, is an invaluable tool.

When a loss takes place, the mind, body and emotions go through a process of healing as natural as the healing of a physical injury. Know that feeling lost, sad, angry, hurt, fearful, and tearful at goodbyes is a natural part of the healing process.

We recover from loss in three distinct but overlapping phases. The first phase of recovery is shock/denial/numbness; the second, fear/anger/depression; the third, understanding/acceptance/moving on.

No matter what the loss — from a missed phone call to the death of a loved one — the body goes through the same three phases of recovery. The only difference is the time it takes to go through each stage and the intensity of the feelings at each point along the way.

When we first hear of a loss, our initial reaction is shock/denial/numbness. Often we say, “Oh, no!” We can’t believe what we’ve heard. We go numb.

This ability to deny and go numb is a blessing. Catastrophic losses are too hard to take all at once. It has been suggested that the reason some people have slow, terminal illnesses as their method of dying is because it’s going to take them a long time to say goodbye, and they want to do it right.

The next phase, fear/anger/depression, is the one most commonly associated with loss. We think we’ll never love or be loved again (fear). We wail against the situations, people, things and unkind fates that “caused” the loss (anger). We cry, we feel sad, we hurt, we don’t want to go on (depression).

One of the toughest feelings to accept is anger at the one who is dying (even if it’s yourself). “Why are you leaving me?!” A voice inside wants to know. To feel angry at someone for dying, or angry at yourself over your own death, is perfectly normal.

It’s a natural stage of recovery that one must pass through. (Pass through –- not remain in.)

Finally, we come to understanding/acceptance/moving on.

We understand that loss is part of life. We accept the loss we suffered, and begin to heal. When healing is well under way, we move on to our next experiences.

I put this information on grieving in the section “Act-centuate the Positive” because mourning is a positive human ability. It allows us the flexibility to adapt to change. It is a natural, human response. The negativity enters when the process of healing is suppressed, glossed over, and denied.

Accept the process. Accept the numbness, the fear; the pain, the anger, the sadness, the tears, and, eventually, accept the healing.

Accepting the healing can be difficult. People may expect you to mourn longer than you find necessary, or they may want your mourning to “hurry up.” People often offer comfort to ease their own discomfort. “There, there,” they say, “everything’s all right,” when, in fact, everything is not all right.

Grieving must be done in its own time.

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