Grief, at any Age

January 20th, 2016

Last Friday, I visited my youngest daughter's class to offer a "Have You Hugged Your Alien?" workshop. There were two classes combined into one which meant 38 grade 2 students having a blast! I love doing these workshops however, I have noticed a pattern. Every time I go to a school and offer a workshop, whether it be about creativity, self-care, stress management or healthy emotional expression, children start telling me about the pets, grand-parents and parents who have passed away. They share stories about their loved ones, how they died and what people said or did after the death.

At this last workshop, a little girl said her dad had passed away. In response to a comment about that being very sad, the little girl explained: "Well, it's been two years". Her tone was very dismissive. Does she think she should be "over it" by now?  That is very sad. The thing about children is they don't always understand what has happened to their loved one. They may expect to see them again. Their family is grieving as well so they may not be able to take the time to explain everything to them. We also try to protect the children so we may keep them in the dark, exclude them from funeral services and conversations. When children express grief, we may try to make them feel better. Only time will do that. We can't take away their grief, only be present and honest. We may hide our own grief from them because we "don't want them to see us upset". This further confuses them because they feel all these emotions and the adults around them are going about their business as usual.

It's not just children who are not allowed to grieve. I witnessed this first-hand when a close relative had a miscarriage, just how awkward it can be to grieve while everyone encourages you to move on. She had just had a miscarriage. The baby was quite advanced. She was upset, obviously. It was another relative's birthday. We all went out for supper to celebrate. As we sat at the restaurant, everyone was happy, giddy etc. acting as if nothing had happened. I looked over at her, in shock. She had this empty look in her eyes. I asked her if she'd like to come outside with me. We sat on a curb and I gave her a tiny compass on a chain. I told her I think about her all the time and, if she felt lost and alone, all she had to do was look at this compass and know that I was out there, waiting for her to call. We sat together quietly and she was ready to go back inside. She seemed a bit lighter and she was excited to share her compass with the group. They were not receptive. She was dampening the mood. How dare she, on this person's birthday? Once again, I sat there in disbelief. We looked at each other and she put on her necklace.

Another example of our negation of people's right to grieve is the move to a long term care facility. I have seen it many times. A family arrives with their elder. They empty the boxes and set up photo frames and decorative comforters, maybe hang some art. They try to create a festive atmosphere but they are stressed and worried. The tension builds in them throughout the day as the moment to leave approaches. The older adult is also stressed and worried. They join the other residents for lunch or supper and, just like the first day of school, they try to find a friendly face. They are suddenly alone. They look around their room. This is their new home. There are a few tokens from their full life but the room feels bare. They have held their emotions in to save their children from their own feelings of sadness and guilt. They know this was a difficult decision for them. They no longer live in their home, in their neighbourhood with all their stuff, accumulated over the years. They generally move in without their spouse who died a few years ago.

The staff welcome this new resident, oblivious to who this person is, what they have been through in their long life and what fills them with joy. Everyone is getting acquainted. The resident learns to eat whatever is served, three times a day, at the time it is available, they are bathed weekly, sometimes by the same person and gender, other times it's someone new, they may not have a car to get out, run errands or catch a movie. They wonder what has happened to their stuff. Who got the fine china?

As an art therapist or activity professional, you do your best to read their social history, taken from the social worker, to find other residents who might enjoy being friends with them, to organize a welcome party, to plan activities that might be enjoyable to them and to spend some time with the new resident and help them adjust to their new surroundings. They have gone through so many losses and now they have all the time in the world to feel the impact of each loss. We try to keep them busy, make them laugh and, convince them that this facility is "the best of its kind". However, just like children who have lost a parent and women who have miscarried, all they need is someone to be present, be honest and acknowledge that this is very challenging.

Grief is natural, it's painful and it takes time. We don't need to stop it, fix it or say something particularly deep. We just need to accept it, breathe into it, give it time and space then, show compassion for ourselves as we ride the wave of grief.

Anne Walsh
www.artnsoul.org