Riding the Current Wave

I asked several friends recently how they coped with loved ones dying from cancer. I was curious as I feel at a loss for how to support the unfortunately large number of friends and family who have recently been touched by this wretched disease.

One described switching into an almost auxiliary mode of adrenaline; swallowing each new step as it comes in, doing what you can with what you've got in the moment.

"Today, we're hearing the news from the oncologist. Now, we're understanding what chemo really means. Now, we're waiting to see what it did. Today, we're hearing the next news. Now we're getting affairs in order and talking openly about death. Now, we're doing death. Today we're doing funeral..." No matter what, she still had to wake with her daughter, feed her and head to work. The world didn't stop for her situation.

Another said that somewhere in the mix there are bouts of mourning, but it took weeks, maybe even months after she was gone to realize what really happened. Events like the first major holiday without her or a task like baking Christmas cookies would spur breakdowns.

What I gathered from their descriptions is to let my loved ones be right where they are on the wave. They might be in a state of shock, sadness, relief or anger or all of those at once. The other bit I learned is that "shoulding" on someone who's mourning is also pretty counterproductive to their process.

I've been watching a loved one get "should" on by very well-intentioned fellow mourners after the recent loss of her husband. "You should run away with us for the weekend... get right back to work... take a long vacation..." I simply can't imagine what she's going through, so how would I know what she "should" or "needs to" do?

I asked a well-respected grief counselor what to do. Be available. "Let her know you're there to help her in any way you can."

After the funeral, a group of us went out on the lake and hung out, anchored at their favorite beach. Even in the shallow water, the chop from the busy lake made it hard to stand at times, so we tried kneeling. It was cooler, but not much easier. The steadiest I felt was when I took my feet off the ground, immersed myself and floated, riding the waves.

Where would you like to ride the waves in your life? What's keeping you from lifting your feet?