Reflections: A Book

End analysis Part 3

My end of the session analysis of what grief means to me

Grief group for me is like taking a long road trip with a bunch of 8 yr olds who cry at the sight of road kill.

When I was younger I would ALWAYS cry at road-kill. Deer, dogs, cats, whatever; no skunks or possums, they deserved to die, but the deer, dogs and cats got me every time!
Fast forward 20 years, I’m not 8 anymore, I’m 27 and now I’m on this figurative journey called life. And there are deer on the side of the road any more, it’s my friends, it’s my family, it’s friends of friends that I met once or twice a few years ago at a get together.
Thing is, while that has changed, one important thing hasn’t, who’s in the car with me. In my case it’s just me and my mom; it doesn’t have to be my mom, it could be any one; a spouse, a relative, another friend, or even a stranger; but for me it’s my mom.
When I was a kid needless to say, mom never cried at road kill. I don’t think she noticed it most of the time until I started bawling. And I expected that, why would she cry? Why should she care, I grew up, no big deal. But now that it’s my friends on the side of the road and I don’t understand why she isn’t being more emphathetic of my feelings. Granted mom grieves like I would if I did not come to group. She pushes it down and hides it until she is alone.
I’m sure she talks to friends and family sometimes but I’m 98% sure she never got group or professional help. And because of this I think she’s become calloused and jaded when it comes to death, especially those she’s no connection with. Example: my friend died of aids and it’s all she would talk about.
Back to the analogy, grief group is a bus full of 8 yr olds. I’ll always love my mom and she’ll always be on this life journey with me BUT it’s great to be able to switch cars once a week and be on a bus full of other 8 yr olds just like me who cry whenever we pass another dead deer.
This group means so much to me because I know that when I lose a friend or relative you will all cry with me. You don’t have to know his story to know my story. You don’t have to break down in order to build me up, all you have to do is say I’m sorry for your loss, I know how you feel and we’re going to get through this together. That’s it, and it’s a beautiful thing….
It seems so simple, but it is actually so hard to find; and I'm finding that out more and more with each loss.