Finding that sense of purpose

THERE comes a time when your duties as a caregiver are done and your “services” no longer required. Or they might have lightened significantly that you can finally return to a “normal” life. You’ll find yourself at a loss. You suddenly have time and you’re not quite sure what to do, where to begin picking up the pieces and how to move on. Your sense of purpose is suddenly gone. When that fact finally sinks in, you end up feeling bereft and empty. Because suddenly, you’re not needed as much.

There are no more emergencies to deal with, and your routine is gone, along with the adrenaline rush. If you’re the primary caregiver, you’ll find that suddenly the phone is quite silent — no more calls and messages to ask you for status updates etc. You find yourself checking your phone every now and then just in case, but there’s no longer any need for such communications.

At first, you may feel relief. For the first time in a while, you get a full night’s sleep. By the third night, you’d be well rested but your brain sometimes still thinks in terms of what you’ve conditioned it to be. Occasionally, you get startled in the middle of the night at the slightest sound, thinking that your phone rang to convey some bad news. And then you realise that the bad news had already happened and passed. In the days that follow, you wake up to a different routine. You’re needed for different things, and you need to get used to this change.

Mourning the death of your loved one takes time. The first few weeks, if not months, you’d be busy making all sorts of arrangements and paperwork. There’ll be relatives and friends who visit to convey their sympathies and condolences. Sometimes you just feel so numb because the pain is hidden and latent. So the responses may seem automatic and mechanical, ingrained from upbringing to be gracious — even in grief.

It’s when you have that time alone, when everyone else have returned to their lives that emotions come flooding out. For me it came like a blow; a huge wave that just crashed on me, leaving me breathless and heavy with sorrow. The very person that I wanted to turn to in such moments was the very person that I just lost.

So you reach out to the next significant person in your life — your spouse, parents, siblings and close friends. They’re literally your lifelines. That’s why you need to nurture strong bonds in good times.

WHAT NEXT

When something like this happens, you mourn over two things — the loss of your loved one and the loss of your role as a caregiver. “What do I do now?” isn’t an uncommon question. “How do I go on from here?” The fact that you’re not needed in that capacity anymore leaves a gaping hole in your life. You need to look at your life and how you want to fill it. But where do you start?

There are no simple answers for that. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, author of On Death And Dying, described the stages of grief as: Denial (this isn’t happening to me!) Anger (why is this happening to me?) Bargaining (I promise I’ll be a better person if...) Depression (I don’t care anymore) Acceptance (I’m ready for whatever comes)

However, you’ll find that many clinicians and counsellors will tell you that there are no directions, formulas or straight lines that you can follow. Everyone has their own way of grieving — in their own time and way. Some people just plunge themselves into something that keeps them extremely busy to lessen the pain.

Grief is a process that most of us would experience at some point in our lives. Does the pain totally fade away? Does time make it less painful as the years go by? Maybe a little bit, but for me, I think we carry it with us forever. It can pop up at the most unlikely of times when a sight or smell brings back memories, or on certain holidays or their birthdays.

Howcanyou help a grieving person? Sometimes just being there is comforting. Try to listen without giving advice. Just let him or her talk and allow the pain to come out. They might even rant and rage against anyone and anything from doctors to God, their bitterness and anger spilling out. Let it come out. It’s an expression of grief. It has been said that this is normal behaviour to work off the grief as the person attempts to find meaning of what has happened.

This is also the time to reflect and reach deep within yourself, acknowledging your feelings, both good and bad, to cope with your situation. Do things and be with people who are nurturing. Regain your strength and rediscover yourself.