A friend of mine died today. She died too young. She died of cancer. We knew it was coming but her passing is devastating. When I told someone earlier they instinctively asked if it was from COVID19 – no I replied, it was a normal death.
What the hell is a normal death? She was 40. She’s survived by both her parents. This is not normal. It’s horrific. But with death and grief everywhere now – how do we grieve?
Not by planning a funeral, not by discussing her last wishes, not by coming together to cry, drink, cry more, laugh, sob and hug each other. As a family we’re fairly terrible at phone calls – talking about our feelings without seeing each other is almost as far out of our comfort zone as the grief itself. My worst nightmare is a zoom call where we can see each others puffy red eyes and broken hearts close up – but we can’t reach out and hug each other.
I should say that my grief is nothing compared to that of her family and also a lot of my family who have a much closer relationship to mourn. We’re used to living in different cities and countries – but we’re not used to not being able to get in a car or on a plane to be with each other when the shit hits the fan. We’re currently all just sitting alone, in our own shit.
When my dad died the ritual of funeral planning was not new to me, but the 500+ people that came to mourn with us provided me with a cloak of understanding – a recognition that I was a different person now this had happened – maybe that we all were.
In “This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War,” the historian Drew Gilpin Faust points out that the mass casualties in that war “transformed the American nation as well as the hundreds of thousands of individuals directly affected by loss.” Americans began referring to the “ordinary death” that existed before the war, distinct from the extraordinary deaths during it.[1] This is where we are now, experiencing an ‘ordinary death’ in the middle of a war zone.
I’ve trawled the internet for advice but none of it seems the right fit now. Andy Langford, clinical director at Cruse Bereavement Care – a charity I have used myself, says he would encourage mourners to stay in contact with each other by phone or online – and to support those who are grieving.
“It’s not necessarily about having the right words to say because there aren’t always the right words. But you can be there for them and say you’re thinking of them. It can feel pretty lonely right now, but if you’ve been bereaved it’s even more so.”[2]
Saying I’m thinking of my loved ones going through hell feels disingenuous – if it’s not accompanied by a hug, or shared tears, or any kind of physical interaction I worry that it won’t seem sincere. He’s right about the loneliness though – I’m lucky enough to be in isolation with my partner but, even before this I have never missed my family more. Sam Smith was criticised yesterday for saying they were lonely whilst living in a large house – as if the size of your rooms or even your social circle can stop the creeping desperation of isolation.
So, what now? In big houses, small flats, sea front villas and everything in between – what now? Grief is a lonely place when you’re in the same room as others that understand your pain – in isolation it’s borderline unbearable.
[1] https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/funerals-coronavirus-grieving/2020/03/20/bc07aafc-69f3-11ea-abef-020f086a3fab_story.html
One Ten From Home 