my patient told me that today was his 57th wedding anniversary. he then put his face in his hands and burst into soul wrenching sobs. i didn't see it coming, this man who has generally been so reserved in our encounters. but i did know that the past six months had been rough for him, culminating in his wife ultimately being diagnosed with an uncommon form of dementia. i felt so young watching him cry, glimpsing just briefly before he pulled himself back together the depth of his sadness.
grief does not wait for the last word to be spoken or the last breath to be drawn. grief rushes in well before, when you can no longer say some day i may have to face this, some day i may lose my spouse. grief finds you the moment you learn that your some day is today, now, and is your constant companion as your spouse slips away one forgotten day at a time.
Did you comfort him? I wonder how you react when that happens. He must truly trust you.
ReplyDeleteEvery once in a while, I get a flash of emotion thinking of what it will be like to live without my husband. I try to use those moments as a reminder to appreciate who I have in my life, while I still have them.
ReplyDeleteAmy’s question intrigues me too, Beth. I was astounded in 2005 when my missionary sister just sat and looked as her close friend from high school (in the seventies) went to pieces in our hotel room. I am a hugger - big time - and had she been my friend I would have hugged her and cried too. I learned about Sis something that has bothered me ever since.
ReplyDeleteI am definitely a hugger too, but my gut was telling me that this man would find that gesture too intimate and uncomfortable, so i tried to comfort him as best i could with gentle words. Almost as quickly as he fell apart he was composing himself, so it seemed best to follow his cues...
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