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Jo Linney's avatar

After 4 years I still don't know how to navigate the grief process of losing my daughter and other people. There is no manual, no easy answers, no magic wand, just muddling through. However, I would argue that is the best way for me. I do talk about Sarah more easily now and always say I have two adult children, if people who don't know me ask. I don't mention Sarah is no longer here unless it comes up, which rarely does. She is part of my life, as you say, always will be.

Do people not want to know? Only each person can answer that question. I think losing a child can be so difficult it is the subject people do not want to discuss rather than the person. People don't know how to separate the two. Yet memories are comforting and joyful to remember. 😘

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

I'm so glad you're able to talk about Sarah. I love, love, love the way you said "She is part of my life, as you say, always will be." You provided me with unexpected comfort and I'm grateful for it.

Thank for for the gift you've given me today, Jo. ♥️♥️

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Esther Stanway-Williams's avatar

Hi Jo, another bereaved mum here. I wish the algorithm made finding each other easier. Sending love ❤️

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Carol Ann Power's avatar

My mate who lost her beloved son to suicide 14 years ago on the 18th of July.

She always said she loves that I always held her hand and listened to her stories about this tragedy.

People who suffer such a devastating tragedy want to talk about their beloved as if they don’t, they will burst

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

What a beautiful gift you gave her. You sound like a wonderful friend, Carol.

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Alan's avatar

Thank you Jason. I've lost my 2 sweet wives and a wonderful sister in the last 4 years. I love to talk about them and laugh remembering happy times. I think we have to experience it to understand to care enough to deeply listen and weep with us. You have found purpose in writing about your huge losses. You are comforting many others through your writing.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

Thank you Alan. You've suffered so much loss, yet here you are encouraging me. I appreciate it.

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David Murray's avatar

Jason, another good article. You raise the questions that I have pondered for many years. When you lose a child, it acts like a high-pressure social filter. We (the grieving family) get dropped, which we have no control over. Perhaps the most difficult scenario is when we feel forced to remove others from our social circle. When this is family or close friends, it is very difficult. The only thing that has made it easier is that I have learnt to accept it. Some people really cannot cope with your loss for a multitude of reasons. How much of this behaviour you can tolerate, particularly in the acute stages of grief (which can be several years), is up to you.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

I totally agree David. I'm curious, what specific behaviour made you drop people? I haven't really felt the need to do that at this point.

Although I am drifting away from some of them, so that's probably the same thing...just gradual.

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David Murray's avatar

Hi Jason,

I explored this topic in detail in a Substack article I wrote, which even includes a table. My background in science and education drives me to study and categorise things, so I went into quite a bit of depth. I can share the link if you're interested.

In short, I've learned that some behaviours fall into an unforgivable category. For an extreme example, we had to cut ties with an extended family member whose attitude was upsetting everyone. He was resentful at the mere possibility of having to support our family for more than six weeks. At first, I couldn't accept that this was his true motivation, but when things finally came to a head, my worst suspicions about him were confirmed.

Other situations are less severe but still draining. You might have people who constantly misspeak or seem unreliable; you can often see they aren't coping, so you simply drift apart without any major drama. I recall one person who repeatedly cancelled or changed plans to meet my wife at a time when just getting together for coffee meetup was a challenge. Whilst it wasn’t a major crime, it was emotionally exhausting.

Ultimately, the most helpful thing I did was to stop focusing on these people. When you are in survival mode, your energy is a precious resource. It's much better spent on those who offer support without fuss. Then, as time goes on, you get the incredibly rewarding opportunity to be there for them in return.

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Mike Oppenheim's avatar

Very relatable. I never know how to let people know that I LIKE when they ask about my son...what happened was "sad" but my love for him is anything but sad. Thanks for articulating this so well.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

Thanks for adding your voice to the conversation Mike and I'm so sorry you lost your son. ♥️

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Debi Hassler-Never Forsaken's avatar

I know just what you mean. The not talking and avoidance just put more stress on the one who is hurting. A hug and a listening ear go a long way towards showing compassion toward the one grieving.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

I agree Debi.

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Jennifer Williams's avatar

I would always enjoy talking about Josh, my son, with close family that knew him well. Some other family members would say, “ I was afraid to bring his name up. I didn’t want to make you sad” HELLO PEOPLE!!! I AM ALREADY SAD. Just because I don’t bring his name up, doesn’t mean I don’t think about him every free second of the day and night since he’s been gone for 22 years. And PLEASE, do NOT tell me that time heals all wounds.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

I'm so sorry you lost your Josh. And your right - time does not heal all wounds. ♥️

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Pam McCarty's avatar

People are surprised when I say I love to hear my daughter’s name. Say her name. It brings joy to hear stories and reminders of what others share with you. Too bad there’s not a Grief 101 course to teach that stuff. We would all be better for it.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

That is a great idea Pam and something I'm going to create. Thank you for the dose of inspiration!

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Larry Urish's avatar

Jason, two things came to mind after reading your powerful, insightful essay:

(1) How almost nobody wanted to talk to me about the cancer, after I was diagnosed. (In sharing this, I do NOT attempt to equate the level of angst in what I went through with your loss; they're not even close.)

(2) "The Denial of Death," a Pulitzer-winning book that discusses how Western society almost universally embraces this mindset.

Perhaps those in your life, those who really care about you, can't handle discussing the loss of your loved one, since at some level it brings up their *own* ultimate demise. If you hadn't thought of this, I hope in some way it helps. Hang in there!

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

Man, I think that's a really good point. My wife is actually taking a course right now and one of the areas they're talking about is how much a fear of death influences Western societies.

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Larry Urish's avatar

Sadly, that Western fear is spreading worldwide.

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Tom Golden's avatar

A woman's pain is a call to action, a man's pain is taboo.. People simply don't know what to do with it. This is why men's grief is often more quiet and features action and honoring.

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Jason MacKenzie's avatar

I agree with you Tom. I'm glad to see the work you're doing to break down those taboos. It's an honour to be on a similar path to you. If you're open to it, I'd love to connect and learn more about your work.

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Tom Golden's avatar

Thanks Jason. Maybe the easiest way to learn more about my work would be to have a listen to this podcast on the Meaning of Men series. It's a fairly short interview but does a fair job of telling the story. https://menaregood.substack.com/p/the-meaning-of-men-series-8

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JACK MAZUR's avatar

Thank you Jason for another great article.👍

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Danielle's avatar

I’ve had multiple, premature deaths in my immediate family. I’ve always felt that when (some) people see me, they see all the worst things that can happen to them. Being around me makes (some) other people think about what they can lose. Instead of sitting with their discomfort and doing some thinking and reflecting, some people choose silence and avoidance. They want to pretend things are fine. They—as you say—don’t want to know.

Is this everyone? No. But it’s a lot of people. Genuine empathy and connection are needed, and grieving folks deserve this. You deserve this. And as much as we may love them, I don’t know if we can get genuine empathy or connection from people who are allergic to grief/hard things.

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SpiritStories's avatar

❤️

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SpiritStories's avatar

I lost many friends and family members for a time during the first few years of my complicated grief.

Time froze for me... I didn't know how to ask for help or even knew what I needed, let alone what day of the week it was; whether it was night or day. 💔

My rescue was nobody's responsibility, but, when I "came to," it occured to me that nobody reached out or even brought a famous grief lasagne to the door once the first few months were done. (The first few weeks following funeral, you cannot close the fridge due to grief lasagne)!

I felt perplexed; you can be there for others your whole life, and in your darkest days they can disappear on you.

You put a possible reason in words beautifully. Discomfort. Discomfort may be more powerful than we think... because so many people will do whatever it takes not to feel it 🙏😪❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💕

But look at us now.

Sending you so much love. Chloe is beautiful ✨️

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Yvonne's avatar

Jason, this resonate with me on such a profound way. I had many losses in my life and the difficult part was what you talked about ( the need to feel heard and as many times as needed.) For me, the need to talk about it so often was due to the fact that I felt people were not really listening therefore the need to talk constantly about the pain. Once I felt that I was understood , the need to talk about it as often lessened. People very often don't understand because they haven't 'been there'. Also it's too triggering for them and like a contagious disease, they're afraid to catch it. Reminds me when someone loses their job, most people flee as if it was contagious. Jason, keep talking about your daughter as I talked about my parents, my 2 brothers, my 5 sisters, my best friends who have passed away. I learned to discern who I can talk to and avoid talking to those who I feel don't want to hear about it. That way, the risk of not being listen to or misunderstood is less therefore not adding more pain. Thank you so much for sharing!

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