COPING SKILLSCreative WritersUpdated on May 28, 2015 View more like this | Visit MORRISTOWN, NJ | Contact Don Kissil |
Coping Skills
One Family’s Personal Essay
By: Don Kissil
l Rev. date 5/11/15
Word count = 2,216
Shock….Rage …Feelings of despair…. then, an overpowering anger… all followed by the usual panoply of uncomfortable thoughts, my wife, daughter and I all felt when our son unexpectedly died
Because children should not die before their parents.
Recently, our 45 year old son Matt died while in a local rehab facility after expectations he would be released and allowed to go home soon.
Well, the unexpectedly part may not be all together true. You see, Matt was born with Cystic Fibrosis and had been in and out of hospitals fighting for his life virtually ever since. Both his lungs and his intestinal tract continued to plague him until when at age 35 he received a double lung transplant from a 50 year old woman, no less, that held him together for another 14 years.
But, being immuno-suppressed from the transplant, about half a year ago he contracted a devastating fungal infection that kept him locked into and out of five different hospitals and rehabilitation facilities. Continuing to valiantly fight for his life, each facility afforded great hopes for improvement, despite requiring him to take a number of rather toxic antifungal agents. He appeared to be on the mend and his doctors said he was to be released in a few days, but at about 11PM on the Sunday night of Labor Day weekend, his great heart stopped beating and he died peacefully in his sleep. I guess he finally stopped fighting.
And that’s our story. Perhaps you will see a bit later why it matters that we tell it.
Needless to say, we all were bereft, because as we said before, children are not supposed to die before their parents!
Immediately that night in the rehab facility, and over the next few days, we dealt with practical things...comforting his wife of almost 20 years in her presand state, his funeral arrangements, cremation, death certificates and all things we'd never expected. Following that, over the next two weeks, we held two memorial services, sent out e-mails to several hundred people who knew him, and afterward, mailed a zillion hand-written thank-you notes, for your kind condolences and for the money you sent to the charities we suggested. During all this chaos we are still grieving. It's not an easy transition and I'm sure we are not unusual.
Along the way a friend suggested we attend a bereavement or support group whose function is to deal with parents who have lost children. It’s a select group of folks who are there to deal with the loss of their child at no matter what age that it occurred.
Well, we thought about it briefly and put it on the back burner until about a month later when during our normal doctors visit, she said we really should try something like that based, not doubt on her assessment on how we looked and felt. That's how we found....The Compassionate Friends.
Compassionate Friends is a non-denominational International org. with chapters found in almost every state and many local communities. Ours meets monthly in a local church that rents space there, however we were a bit hesitant to try that group.
"I don't want to tell our story all over again to virtual strangers...I don't want to break-up crying in front of people I don't know....I don't want to wallow in my grief all over again....What kind of people will be there?....What do I wear?....Will you drive?....How can this help us?...." and on and on we worried it along until we finally arrived.
It cost nothing to attend, except perhaps for some cookies or light snacks to share. After donning our nametags, we all sat in chairs in a circle, and the leader began with a gentle welcoming and words like these.
"This meeting is for parents who have lost ADULT children. Those who have lost infants or toddlers meet elsewhere and I can clue you in on where and when you might go.
"I lost my son"... she continued, and she called him by name, which all of us were encouraged to do when speaking of our own children... "who was in his mid 20's. That was 16 years ago so maybe I understand a bit about why you all are here.
The why and how her son died she proceeded to tell us and did so almost without emotion, which surprised me. But as I thought about it, 16 years is a long time to still feel very emotional about his death. It’s been years since my parents died and although I still think about them in happier times, the actual emotions of their death have actually left me.
"His loss is always with me but not with the same intensity as it was at the time of his (saying his name again) passing. That is grief, and we are here to help us share in our grief. We hope also to try to learn how to cope a bit better with our loss. We'll begin by going round the room and each of us telling our personal story.
“Regardless of the fact that many here have heard several of us tell our stories before, and especially because you have had to tell it many times to others outside of this group, please tell it again, slowly and comfortably, in your own words. Although you may not realize it just now, telling your story over again is simply therapeutic and the beginning of a coping skill.
“So let us begin. And take your time no one is going to rush you."
* * *
The dozen or so chairs were filled by about as many single adult men and women, several couples, all in a circle and the room was gently lighted. On a table across the room were a few photos of children who had passed and each had a lit candle nearby. On the other side of the room were the snacks everyone (except us) had brought, as this was our first visit. And so the stories began.
"My daughter (her name is spoken) was 25, and she was a heroin addict. But she had been in rehab for a year and was supposedly clean. Her first night after her release from rehab she slept at our home. We chatted happily before she went to bed, and she said she was glad to be home. The next morning when I went in to say good morning, she was dead in her bed. She had O.D.'d from heroin. It's been almost a year now and I still do not know what more I could have done. But I guess I need to talk about it and I think it helps."
"My son (named) was killed in a motorcycle accident at age 28. That was 5 years ago. I still talk to him almost every day, even though I know he's not here. He had a Ph.D. in chemistry and a great job. We were close. I often talk to his girlfriend, they were planning to marry. Am I coping?"
"My kid (also named) was a big high school athlete; football, wrestling, basketball too. He died of a heart attack on the field when he was 16 and that was 7 years ago. Over the next few years we set up a foundation to place those electronic cardiac resuscitator machines in as many High School athletic departments as we could. To date we've put about 41 units all over NJ. We still miss him but telling our story each time really helps even though lots of you have heard this all before."
"Our son, (she said his name) was only 6 when he choked on a hot dog and died. It's been 12 years and we've been coming here on
and off since we found you all. Now with certain toys the potential for choking hazard has been well established, but not so with foods, so we've also worked long and hard politically to change the labeling on certain food packaging to point out the choking risk and it has paid off well. But we still think about our son and miss the things he could have been."
"My son was severely depressed and killed himself at the age of 26. That was now 5 months ago, and oh yes, his name was....Over the years, he'd been in and out of several psych units and as both my wife and I are clinical psych counselors, we tried our best to help, but could not prevent his suicide. Dealing with our guilt has not been easy, but I kind of feel a bit better knowing we are not alone in our grief."
We told our story too, and as with several others, not without some tears and sobbing.
We were surprised at how many of the stories we heard were of children who had either killed themselves from depression, or were
drug addicts, or died due to car or biker accidents.
All together their stories were a bit shocking compared to where we were coming from in our family history. While several spoke, I thought about the old adage I'd heard years ago. It told of the man who cried because he had no shoes, until he met the man who had no feet.
After each of us told our stories the leader said that as the holidays were approaching, several of us usually have an especially hard time coping, especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners when a family member is missing from the table.
She said, let me make this very personal and tell you what I do.
"I have no family, so on those special days I volunteer at a suicide crisis telephone hot line. I have done this for years and it gives me great pleasure that the regular volunteers can go home and celebrate with their own families. No, I'm not noble, it's just that I can do this while others can't, and it works for me. So, Is that my coping skill?
After the round of stories we had a short chat with several folks at the cookie table, who were very friendly and wanted to know more details about our son. We drove home with lots of mixed feelings.
* * *
But next month we went back again, this time with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. We noticed several new photos and candles on the viewing table.
Some of the same folks were there but also some new people we'd not seen at our last visit. We heard some of the same stories but in some cases with more descriptive detail, and some with less.
Apparently people needed to tell their stories here, where no one would either blow you off nor seem to have their eyes glaze over from hearing these details one too many times.
Many of the new stories from the new folks, centered again on drugs, depressions and road accidents. But there were also stories of children who had suffered long, debilitating physical illnesses and all the different ways these parents were coping, particularly caught our attention.
So after only two sessions with The Compassionate Friends here is what my wife and I have come to understand. Grieving is a very personal process. It has no time frame. It can be long or short and each person experiences that time frame very differently. No one way is the right way to grieve. Some cry unexpectedly for some time after their loss and some never do. And neither person is wrong.
And as personal as grieving is, how each person will try to cope with their loss is equally unique.
For us as with several others we know one of our most difficult problems is how we are supposed to answer when someone comes up to you and in their most kindly and mellifluous voice says:
"So, how are you doing?"
In our case, I'm actually afraid to answer, cause I'm not really sure they want to know how I’m doing or even worse, how much I can tell them.
Well, we think we will go back next month. We probably wont continue going there for 16 years, mind you, but our loss was relatively recent and we are still learning to cope. We hope to finally be able to better deal with our loss by not being so afraid to answer that ever- present question...”So how ARE you doing?”
* * *
And lest one thinks from our TCF experiences, that it was only tears, sobbing, or a general downer. In fact it was not. You see, at the cookie table after the story telling, one guy came up to me with a big grin and told me something kind of light hearted. He said we all need some lighter moments amid all our grieving. He said I should check out that wonderfully hilarious "You Tube" video, done some time ago, by the great team of Mike Nickels and Elaine May. In it she plays "Your Grief Lady" and he comes to deal with her, to try to plan a relative’s cheap funeral.
When we got home I did, and it’s a hoot!
#
One Family’s Personal Essay
By: Don Kissil
l Rev. date 5/11/15
Word count = 2,216
Shock….Rage …Feelings of despair…. then, an overpowering anger… all followed by the usual panoply of uncomfortable thoughts, my wife, daughter and I all felt when our son unexpectedly died
Because children should not die before their parents.
Recently, our 45 year old son Matt died while in a local rehab facility after expectations he would be released and allowed to go home soon.
Well, the unexpectedly part may not be all together true. You see, Matt was born with Cystic Fibrosis and had been in and out of hospitals fighting for his life virtually ever since. Both his lungs and his intestinal tract continued to plague him until when at age 35 he received a double lung transplant from a 50 year old woman, no less, that held him together for another 14 years.
But, being immuno-suppressed from the transplant, about half a year ago he contracted a devastating fungal infection that kept him locked into and out of five different hospitals and rehabilitation facilities. Continuing to valiantly fight for his life, each facility afforded great hopes for improvement, despite requiring him to take a number of rather toxic antifungal agents. He appeared to be on the mend and his doctors said he was to be released in a few days, but at about 11PM on the Sunday night of Labor Day weekend, his great heart stopped beating and he died peacefully in his sleep. I guess he finally stopped fighting.
And that’s our story. Perhaps you will see a bit later why it matters that we tell it.
Needless to say, we all were bereft, because as we said before, children are not supposed to die before their parents!
Immediately that night in the rehab facility, and over the next few days, we dealt with practical things...comforting his wife of almost 20 years in her presand state, his funeral arrangements, cremation, death certificates and all things we'd never expected. Following that, over the next two weeks, we held two memorial services, sent out e-mails to several hundred people who knew him, and afterward, mailed a zillion hand-written thank-you notes, for your kind condolences and for the money you sent to the charities we suggested. During all this chaos we are still grieving. It's not an easy transition and I'm sure we are not unusual.
Along the way a friend suggested we attend a bereavement or support group whose function is to deal with parents who have lost children. It’s a select group of folks who are there to deal with the loss of their child at no matter what age that it occurred.
Well, we thought about it briefly and put it on the back burner until about a month later when during our normal doctors visit, she said we really should try something like that based, not doubt on her assessment on how we looked and felt. That's how we found....The Compassionate Friends.
Compassionate Friends is a non-denominational International org. with chapters found in almost every state and many local communities. Ours meets monthly in a local church that rents space there, however we were a bit hesitant to try that group.
"I don't want to tell our story all over again to virtual strangers...I don't want to break-up crying in front of people I don't know....I don't want to wallow in my grief all over again....What kind of people will be there?....What do I wear?....Will you drive?....How can this help us?...." and on and on we worried it along until we finally arrived.
It cost nothing to attend, except perhaps for some cookies or light snacks to share. After donning our nametags, we all sat in chairs in a circle, and the leader began with a gentle welcoming and words like these.
"This meeting is for parents who have lost ADULT children. Those who have lost infants or toddlers meet elsewhere and I can clue you in on where and when you might go.
"I lost my son"... she continued, and she called him by name, which all of us were encouraged to do when speaking of our own children... "who was in his mid 20's. That was 16 years ago so maybe I understand a bit about why you all are here.
The why and how her son died she proceeded to tell us and did so almost without emotion, which surprised me. But as I thought about it, 16 years is a long time to still feel very emotional about his death. It’s been years since my parents died and although I still think about them in happier times, the actual emotions of their death have actually left me.
"His loss is always with me but not with the same intensity as it was at the time of his (saying his name again) passing. That is grief, and we are here to help us share in our grief. We hope also to try to learn how to cope a bit better with our loss. We'll begin by going round the room and each of us telling our personal story.
“Regardless of the fact that many here have heard several of us tell our stories before, and especially because you have had to tell it many times to others outside of this group, please tell it again, slowly and comfortably, in your own words. Although you may not realize it just now, telling your story over again is simply therapeutic and the beginning of a coping skill.
“So let us begin. And take your time no one is going to rush you."
* * *
The dozen or so chairs were filled by about as many single adult men and women, several couples, all in a circle and the room was gently lighted. On a table across the room were a few photos of children who had passed and each had a lit candle nearby. On the other side of the room were the snacks everyone (except us) had brought, as this was our first visit. And so the stories began.
"My daughter (her name is spoken) was 25, and she was a heroin addict. But she had been in rehab for a year and was supposedly clean. Her first night after her release from rehab she slept at our home. We chatted happily before she went to bed, and she said she was glad to be home. The next morning when I went in to say good morning, she was dead in her bed. She had O.D.'d from heroin. It's been almost a year now and I still do not know what more I could have done. But I guess I need to talk about it and I think it helps."
"My son (named) was killed in a motorcycle accident at age 28. That was 5 years ago. I still talk to him almost every day, even though I know he's not here. He had a Ph.D. in chemistry and a great job. We were close. I often talk to his girlfriend, they were planning to marry. Am I coping?"
"My kid (also named) was a big high school athlete; football, wrestling, basketball too. He died of a heart attack on the field when he was 16 and that was 7 years ago. Over the next few years we set up a foundation to place those electronic cardiac resuscitator machines in as many High School athletic departments as we could. To date we've put about 41 units all over NJ. We still miss him but telling our story each time really helps even though lots of you have heard this all before."
"Our son, (she said his name) was only 6 when he choked on a hot dog and died. It's been 12 years and we've been coming here on
and off since we found you all. Now with certain toys the potential for choking hazard has been well established, but not so with foods, so we've also worked long and hard politically to change the labeling on certain food packaging to point out the choking risk and it has paid off well. But we still think about our son and miss the things he could have been."
"My son was severely depressed and killed himself at the age of 26. That was now 5 months ago, and oh yes, his name was....Over the years, he'd been in and out of several psych units and as both my wife and I are clinical psych counselors, we tried our best to help, but could not prevent his suicide. Dealing with our guilt has not been easy, but I kind of feel a bit better knowing we are not alone in our grief."
We told our story too, and as with several others, not without some tears and sobbing.
We were surprised at how many of the stories we heard were of children who had either killed themselves from depression, or were
drug addicts, or died due to car or biker accidents.
All together their stories were a bit shocking compared to where we were coming from in our family history. While several spoke, I thought about the old adage I'd heard years ago. It told of the man who cried because he had no shoes, until he met the man who had no feet.
After each of us told our stories the leader said that as the holidays were approaching, several of us usually have an especially hard time coping, especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners when a family member is missing from the table.
She said, let me make this very personal and tell you what I do.
"I have no family, so on those special days I volunteer at a suicide crisis telephone hot line. I have done this for years and it gives me great pleasure that the regular volunteers can go home and celebrate with their own families. No, I'm not noble, it's just that I can do this while others can't, and it works for me. So, Is that my coping skill?
After the round of stories we had a short chat with several folks at the cookie table, who were very friendly and wanted to know more details about our son. We drove home with lots of mixed feelings.
* * *
But next month we went back again, this time with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. We noticed several new photos and candles on the viewing table.
Some of the same folks were there but also some new people we'd not seen at our last visit. We heard some of the same stories but in some cases with more descriptive detail, and some with less.
Apparently people needed to tell their stories here, where no one would either blow you off nor seem to have their eyes glaze over from hearing these details one too many times.
Many of the new stories from the new folks, centered again on drugs, depressions and road accidents. But there were also stories of children who had suffered long, debilitating physical illnesses and all the different ways these parents were coping, particularly caught our attention.
So after only two sessions with The Compassionate Friends here is what my wife and I have come to understand. Grieving is a very personal process. It has no time frame. It can be long or short and each person experiences that time frame very differently. No one way is the right way to grieve. Some cry unexpectedly for some time after their loss and some never do. And neither person is wrong.
And as personal as grieving is, how each person will try to cope with their loss is equally unique.
For us as with several others we know one of our most difficult problems is how we are supposed to answer when someone comes up to you and in their most kindly and mellifluous voice says:
"So, how are you doing?"
In our case, I'm actually afraid to answer, cause I'm not really sure they want to know how I’m doing or even worse, how much I can tell them.
Well, we think we will go back next month. We probably wont continue going there for 16 years, mind you, but our loss was relatively recent and we are still learning to cope. We hope to finally be able to better deal with our loss by not being so afraid to answer that ever- present question...”So how ARE you doing?”
* * *
And lest one thinks from our TCF experiences, that it was only tears, sobbing, or a general downer. In fact it was not. You see, at the cookie table after the story telling, one guy came up to me with a big grin and told me something kind of light hearted. He said we all need some lighter moments amid all our grieving. He said I should check out that wonderfully hilarious "You Tube" video, done some time ago, by the great team of Mike Nickels and Elaine May. In it she plays "Your Grief Lady" and he comes to deal with her, to try to plan a relative’s cheap funeral.
When we got home I did, and it’s a hoot!
#
