Loss and Grieving

As a counsellor in training I’ve learned a little about grief and loss in my program.  I took a course devoted to the subject, and I’ve dealt with it in my practicum placements.  I know when I am a professional counsellor I will see bereavement often.  As with any other topic we are encouraged to do our own work so that our own feelings and unfinished business don’t emerge in our therapy sessions with clients. After all, their therapy is for them, not for the counsellor’s baggage.

The weekend before last I received bad news about my grandma.  She’d had a massive heart attack, was in the hospital, and would not be going home again.  I drove to my hometown that weekend to be with her and say goodbye.  Grandma was moved to a hospice house the day I arrived – something we were all grateful for.  The place was lovely, private, and quiet, with gorgeous gardens outside her window.  She was very much at peace with all that was happening, and some of my fondest memories of her will be of those last days… her occasional smiles, her concern for our comfort even as we were gathered around her deathbed, and the morning that she felt a little stronger and asked for a cup of tea.  Commitments called me back at the end of the weekend, so I said goodbye in the morning and made the long drive home again.  She looked distant that morning, her eyes mostly fixed on the ceiling, but I knew without doubt that she heard me; she knew all her family was with her in the room.

By the time I arrived home that evening I got the call that she had passed.  My grandma was a tough woman, but always warm and accommodating.  She had a hard life, as did many of her generation and she learned to tackle whatever challenge arose head-on and without hesitation.  She was full of personality and was not afraid to speak her mind.  In her day things just had to get done, no matter how laborious, to pay the bills and keep food in the pantry.  When I was a child grandma lived with us, babysat me and my siblings when mom and dad were both working, and she had a huge part in shaping the person I am today.  As she retired and grew older she played an important role in keeping the extended family together.  Every time we gathered, like a quilt she was the common thread.

So how best can a counsellor (or one in training) balance a deeply personal challenge with the commitments and responsibilities of the Professional Helping world?

This past weekend I returned to my hometown for the funeral.  During the week in-between and again this week I attended my internship, took on new clients, saw returning clients, and attended my university classes and volunteer commitments.

It is so important for counsellors to do their own therapeutic work and ensure they don’t bring their own unfinished business into the counselling sessions.  Balancing personal grief with my professional responsibilities is new to me, but I’ve been doing my best with the training I have.  Here’s what I’ve done:

• I let my supervisors know what is going on and checked in with them regarding my emotional health and workload. (They’ve both been wonderfully supportive)
• I was honest with myself regarding my emotions.  I didn’t bottle up my sadness, and I permitted myself to laugh and forget my grief at times as well.
• I was careful to care for myself by getting enough sleep, eating regularly, and doing a little exercise.
• I took time to slow down and appreciate the little things.

I stopped at a park one rainy day after visiting Grandma in the hospice to walk and breathe and release some of the grief I was carrying.

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Death is an under-appreciated part of life; the part that is swept under the rug since it can’t be abolished entirely.  We see the course of life as living, with death as an unfortunate event at the end.  Yet from the moment we are born we are moving toward death; we are in a sense ‘dying’ all our lives just as much as we are living.  Indigenous traditions of North America teach us to love all of life, which includes the end of life.  We do not fully appreciate a leaf for example, or a relationship, or a beloved person until we can consider the birth, the course of being, and the death… and appreciate every part of that existence.

Our mortality is our greatest blessing because it drives our lives.  Without an end in sight we would have very little motivation to make our days in this world count, as my grandma did.

In memory of Grandma Muriel 1922-2011