Take This Cup From Me. No, Really

Losing someone you love is traumatic. But we don’t talk about the deep trauma of death very often.
Of course, we tend to identify certain deaths as traumatic; accidents, violence, suicide and the deaths of the young long before their time. But even if you go in your sleep after a long life well-lived, someone finds you! Even if you expire at 118 making mad love to your spouse, it’s still pretty traumatic for them (to say nothing of the guilt – and what do you tell the children?)
It doesn’t matter who it is and how they died, those left behind are also left with the after-effects of trauma. If your beloved suffered a long, lingering death from illness, you will have images of pain and suffering indelibly seared into your mind and heart. If they died suddenly, you may be tormented by the thought of their last moments and haunted by the fact that you didn’t get to say goodbye.
Guilt is often a part of trauma, especially for those who lose children, for we are hard-wired to protect our children at all costs. And for anyone who has lost a loved one to suicide, violence or accident, it’s easy to imagine that had we done something – anything at all – (called to check up, come home 15 minutes earlier, offered to drive, been there to protect them) things might have turned out very differently. Even deaths from illness can bring guilt (“Why didn’t I make him go to the doctor?” “How did I miss that she was tired all the time and losing weight for no reason?”) or at the very least, second-guessing yourself.
I’ve come to understand that “what-if-ing” and “woulda-shoulda-coulda-ing” are an unavoidable part of the grieving process. They are our heart’s cry to help when we feel helpless, to find meaning amid seemingly random misfortune, to turn back the clock of life from the unimaginable present of death. But they can also be re-traumatizing, a road leading backward into pain instead of forward into understanding, healing and new life.
Of course, there are times when there is much to be learned from looking back. Many lessons of loss and grief can lead to important change, greater purpose and rededication to the values embodied by those we have loved. But before this can happen, we need to be released from the cycle of remembering trauma. No-one can live in the “valley of the shadow of death;” it’s not a life-giving place. Grief takes us there to visit but we must, with great effort and often with help, make our way out.
After my husband Peter died, I felt like I had PTSD. I was tormented by images of him sick and dying and couldn’t get them out of my head. One night, in desperation, the prayer of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane came to me; “Take this cup from me.” I really felt I couldn’t bear one more day of being tortured by his death and my heart was begging for relief.
I began a daily practice of meditating on pictures of happy and healthy days and consciously releasing images of the previous painful six months. For every sad image I banished, I invited in three happy ones. I asked everyone I knew to help me by sending me pictures of Peter that they might have and was inundated with photos in the mail, emailed or texted and posted to social media, many of which I had never seen before! Peter in all his youth and health and both of us deliriously happy in our life together came flooding back to me. Eventually, those other images retreated to the back of my psyche, where they belong.
Letting go of the trauma of losing someone begins the process, so essential to our healing, of redeeming someone’s life from their death. It is a deliberate turning away from the circumstances and experiences of their death that allows, over time, for the beauty and meaning of their life to come shining through and be what we most remember.
Of course, there are amazing professionals who can help us with true, deep and lasting trauma and I’d be the first to recommend that you seek their expert help. Some trauma is so profound that we need the assistance of others who understand it far better than we do.
But there are still many things that we can do ourselves to begin the process of releasing the trauma of death and its hold on us. Because the only suffering you can prevent or heal now is your own.
So put it out to the universe, to God, to your friends. Help me with this. I am traumatized. I need to remember life, not death. I need to see health, not illness. I want memories of love, not reminders of loss. Over time, you will feel the trauma of death recede and the glory of life and love return and occupy its rightful place in your heart and mind.
Ask yourself “What do I need to do to release the trauma of losing my loved one?”
- Do you need to write them a letter, to say goodbye and I love you because you didn’t get to?
- Do you need to talk to their doctor and get answers to questions that linger?
- Do you need to create something of beauty or meaning in their name?
- Do you need to consciously release images that haunt you, replacing them with love and joy?
- Do you need to tell yourself that you did all you could?
- Do you need to take care of yourself or let others take care of you?
- Do you need to make a change that will free you from painful associations?
- Do you need to forgive them, someone else or even yourself?
Making a conscious effort to release the trauma of losing someone can be your first act of self-healing. You don’t need to drink from that cup of suffering forever.
Thank you so much.
It’s only been 7 months AND he died on our 62nd wedding anniversary ???? ????.
I will keep rereading it.
However, after 67 years with him I am still inconsolable!
Hi Anne,
I understand, as best as anyone who isn’t you can. Dying on your wedding anniversary reminds me a little bit of my own story in that my husband died on the 27th of the month and our first date was on the 27th and he gave me flowers every month on the 27th to remind me of how happy he was to have that first date. At first, when I thought about him dying on the 27th, I felt sad, but then over time, I found another way to think about it. Perhaps this might be helpful to you?
Whatever day he died was always going to be a very sad day in your calendar. But the fact that it happened on the anniversary of the happiest day in your lives together, the day that brought you together for life, adds a joyous colour to that day.
Perhaps, instead of thinking about the pain that him dying on your anniversary causes you, going forward you might be able to spend the day reflecting on your wedding – and just perhaps that might balance out the grief a little bit.
Of course, losing him is always going to hurt, especially after a lifetime together. There’s nothing that can soften that blow. But I hope that when that anniversary rolls around, you will gather some loved ones around you, and spend at least as much time thinking about your wedding, and the beautiful life that you had together, and give the death way less time on that day.
Sending you love, support and healing,
Allison
P.S. i’m just running out the door, but I’m happy to write you something to reflect on on that day in case it helps.