Well, Anna, another day dawns – but it doesn’t dawn for Edna, because Edna died last night, of a heart attack. I had a telephone call. Well, at least it was quick, but it was a shock to all of us. (You may remember Edna from your days at Wynorin )We used to call her 'Auntie Edna' although she was not really our auntie.) When I used to drive her home and see her safely inside her flat, she always said ‘Goodnight and God Bless.’ I, of course, just said Goodnight! – but I bless her, in my own way. She was 91, and some might say – well, she had a good innings. But this is not a bloody game of cricket.
Do you like John Donne? “… Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
As you know, Anna, I am not religious; I cannot take seriously a man who has to dress up in a frock, and intone an archaic language in a sing-song voice in order to propound a theory.
But what do you tell a child when someone they love dies? That they have gone to heaven? I suppose that is nice and comforting but I could not do that now. And I wonder what I would say. Perhaps something along the lines of ‘… well, nobody really knows what happens to you when you die, despite what the vicars and priests tell you. I think that a person lives on in the minds of all the people who knew them. Of course, they may also live on in some other world; we just don’t know.
Freddie has had me on a course of CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy). I have not told you this before because I wanted to see how I went on with it - I was not too hopeful. Anyway, I had my 8th and final session today - not with Freddie, but with a very nice CBT specialist on the staff. Her name is Mary. She is good. In fact I feel so much better, so much freer of the compulsion to neutralise intrusive thoughts. I can hardly believe it. Mary said I could always go back for more CBT but that she felt that we had done all we could for now. It was just a question of my practising what I had learnt.
I still have my sessions with Freddie (he is back from his conference so I am afraid, your visit will have to be kept on hold for the moment. But don't worry, my sweet, I am working on it.). Freddie wants me to talk aout my childhood - especially my relationship with my mother. He is trying to get to the root of my 'core beliefs' and associated 'schema'.
Have I talked about Gretchen? She is a sort of staff nurse (they don't really like labels here - and I agree with them. Anyway, I will leave it until my next post.
Have you noticed that I have included a photograph in my 'profile'? It was taken quite a few years ago when I was rowing on the river Dee. I don't think anyone will recognise me. It you want to publish a photograph you can do so by including it in a post - we are only allowed one photo in the profile.
Clive has been at it again! He says he saw a piece in the news about Lady Gaga (she is evidently a singer of some sort) asking 'Boy George' to autograph her vagina. George - rather tactfully, I thought - signed her hat instead. Anyway, he came up with this:
Each day she would shine her
Vagina,
With a polish imported from China -
A bloody good rub,
At two pounds a tub -
And the glow in the dark helped you find her.
If you find this offensive, or feel that it lowers the tone of the blog, then I will delete. In fact, you may do it yourself, if you wish.
Can't wait for your visit
As ever
George
Thursday, March 18, 2010
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4 comments:
I do love the poem by John Donne that you have posted a snippet of here. I was assigned a research paper on him when i was 17. I was yet to give a damn about writing or writers, nor did i really have any ambitions at the time.
But looking back...what a thing for a person of 17 to have realized about this poem.
We take comfort--there is some distance, we think--in the fact that we do not know the person who has died. But why do we take comfort in this? Our distance, emotionally, physically, what have you...from the person, does not make us any more distant from death ourselves.
Wow, I love what propoquerian said above. But I loved the snippet of that poem as well. I never heard of it before, and its enlightening to read new things. Makes me think about life, and death, and things that seldom cross my mind unless provoked. It reminds me of when a professor told us that a student died in his sleep, and it was so weird seeing the student come in everyday and you notice them, but then when they're gone, you realize you are never going to see them again in your life, and somehow you just remember that one interaction with them, and wonder how can a student so young just die in their sleep....but that's just my mind going on about that.
Take care
~Lolita
Sorry for your loss regarding Edna.
I'm not sure what you can tell a child when a loved one has passed away. I think children are far more accepting of the mysteries of life and death than we are.
It's not so much what you say to children but how you say it as youngsters tune into non-verbal cues. The best thing to do is reassure them. A hug as they cry perhaps.
A friend of mine who lost her mother at the age of 5 says she did not feel this loss at the time. She was saddened more when her father divorced his second wife whom she had become attached to.
But I guess each individual is different and has a different reaction. Irvin Yalom's "Staring at the Sun" is a great book on the subject. He also mentions what you say about remembering the loved one as a way to deal with their loss. After all, the fact that they have had an affect on us makes their presence alive and meaningful.
John Donne's metaphysical poetry is brilliant...my favorite is the one about the Flea (mainly because it was taught to us at school by a nun who evidently felt scandalised by the poem...all the more reason to be interested).
Thank you everyone for your comments. Amy, my grandaughter - she's ten - has written a little piece that she is going to read out at the funeral. I think I will post it - I hate the thought of sounding mawkish but I thought it was so lovely of her.
So you read Mr Yallom, Purple Cow. Have you read 'Love's Executioner'? I would recommend that all aspiring therapists read the first chapter,if they read nothing else throughout their training.
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