My Experiences with Grief

My first experience with loss occurred at the tender age of 14-years-old. It was at this time that my mother died from complications brought about by a gall bladder surgery. My father was serving in the U.S. Army and my family was stationed in Taegu, South Korea. When the doctors discovered blood clots, my mother was evacuated by air to the United States where she could receive better care. My father went with her and I was left in South Korea to continue my studies. I was told that she was “getting better”; however, she was not. Shortly thereafter she succumbed to the complications.

Next, we fast forward to my early 30s. I was living in California with my husband and two step-daughters when the call came. My maternal grandmother, whom I loved dearly and respected greatly and who was the last of my four grandparents, had passed away after losing her struggle with pancreatic cancer. This was a huge loss for me. My grandmother, born in 1909, was quite the pioneer for her generation. A devoted Christian, she followed her own path of awareness and selflessness.

The three men that I loved the most, and have lost, were my husband, brother, and father. Within a 3-year period, I lost all three.

I was still living in California with my husband and step-daughters when I received a call from my father saying that my only sibling, Ralph, had passed away from a brain aneurysm. I was in shock and could not believe it. Ralph was 8½ years older than I was and had always been a father figure to me. My father, being in the military, was often away and I looked up to Ralph and knew he would always be there for me and would protect me. My big, strong brother was gone and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye and tell him that I loved him. Awful! Just awful!

The very worst of all my losses came when my wonderful husband, Ken, passed into eternity on December 8, 2004. Ken had been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, an incurable and rare form of cancer, in 1999. After multiple rounds of chemotherapy, we arrived at Stanford Medical Center where Ken underwent a bone marrow transplant. Life expectancy following a bone marrow transplant was approximately five years. For the next four and a half years, we experienced several ups and downs, but otherwise we carried on as best we could. Ken began to have some issues early in 2004 and, in September of the same year, we thought we had everything under control again. But, we were wrong. Ken went into surgery on December 8, 2004, and passed away during surgery. I have never been so devastated. Ken was the most loving and caring man I have ever known. He was a wonderful, supportive father. Ken was filled with a light that I’ve never really seen in anyone else I’ve met.

Eight months later, in August 2005, I found out that my father had passed away. I had just moved to Montana and he was living in Florida. My father served his country for 34 years. He fought in both WWII and the Korean War. He truly loved his country.

There have been other losses as well; however, these have been the most painful, prominent, and heartbreaking. Each manifested its own grief cycle. Each played out unlike the others. Each was unto itself a different type of grief. This is one of the reasons grief is so hard on us. We only experience the deepest grief a few times during our life and, when we do, life is never the same again.