Montag, 19. März 2012

How to comfort?


Last weekend we have been up north ( a three hours drive) at my parents place. It was my grandmothers funeral, who had died February 3rd. It might sound strange to you to wait six weeks between the death and the funeral, but she was burned and there was no earlier appointment possible for the funeral. My grandparents had decided to be buried in a forest. A special forest where you can buy your own tree and be buried underneath it. I don't know if that is possible in other countries or even far more common than here in Germany.
It is a beautiful grave I believe. It would comfort me to know I will find rest under a tree one day. Is it ever too early to decided how you want to be buried? Unfortunatly not I guess.
A bit strange it was to see my grandfathers name at the tree already (there is only a small sign, saying who rests where) since he is still alive...
The forest is a very good place for my grandparents who disliked churches so much and still wanted to be close to God. A forest is full of God.

Six weeks have past since my grandma died. Weeks that I had time to get used to the feeling of her gone. I thought about her a lot, tried to find memories. Memories I found, but no good ones. And that really shocked me. She ment a lot to me, she was a very important person in my life, she lived in the house right next to ours, we spend very much time with her, almost every day of my childhood. They toke us on many holidays all over Germany. But all the good memories that I find are somehow more connected to my granddad, not  to her. She has been very demanding, dominating, strict. We were always a little or a lot scared of her. There was too much love from her side, but no effection. She wanted to make us hers, she never aproved of my mum. She let us know that. It makes me very sad to realize now that I can't find good memories. I am still looking...

They really loved each other, for over 60 years. They have shown me that life long love exists. They cared for each other all their  life, for good and for bad.

They have traveled the world together. Now my granddad is left. He was a quiet man, never talked much. She did all the talking, she did it all.
Now he can't stop talking, the words just run out of him. It is unbearable. I know, grieving people are never easy, that's not how it works, that's not what its all about. I know. But I can't be with him when he talks nonstop, for hours, only old stories that I have heared so many times before. It drives me crazy!!! I don't have that patience. I don't mind him crying (and he cries a lot, which I think is good), I can deal with sadness. I can hug. But listening, my, I am soooo bad at that, I never knew. My plans had been very different for that weekend. I had imagined to spend a lot of time with my granddad, to comfort him, to detract him from the pain, but after the first evening, lost in his memories, I got scared and avoided to spend any more time with him and felt soooo bad about it. I know grieve is never convenient. I am so sorry grandpa, I hope I can listen to you again when I come back next time, I am still trying.

3 Kommentare:

  1. Danke, für diesen Post, für Deine ehrlichen Gedanken. Zeigt dieses tolle Foto Deine Grosseltern? Wunderbares Bild!

    Ich habe mir beim Lesen überlegt, warum das Reden Deines Grossvaters so unerträglich ist. Ich weiss nicht, aber es gibt Menschen, die einem dabei Energie absaugen, wenn sie einen zutexten. Das ertrage ich nicht, weil ich ein offener Mensch bin und deshalb in Kürze leergesaugt bin und nicht mehr kann. Vielleicht ist das im Moment bei deinem Grossvater den Fall? Er ist wahrscheinlich derart in einem Loch, Energieloch, dass er sich die Lebenskraft nun auf diese Art bei den Mitmenschen holt? - Naja, war nur so ein Gedanke. Musst Dich auf jeden Fall nicht schuldig fühlen! Es ist so, wie es ist.

    Vielleicht konnte Deine Grossmutter ein leckeres Gericht kochen, das Du so gemocht hast?

    Herzlich,
    iren

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  2. Liebe Iren, ja, das ist es wohl, er saugt Energie ab, ich fühle mich ganz ausgelaugt danach. So fühle ich mich auch manchmal mit meinen Klienten die ich betreue, wenn sie bestimmte psychische Erkrankungen haben. Ich glaube ich kann mich da nicht gut schützen.
    Und, wirklich, sie hat gut gekocht, sehr gut sogar. Und ihr Kartoffelsalat ist eine wunderbare Erinnerung. Immerhin. ich danke dir!

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  3. Ich stimme Iren zu, fuehl dich nicht schuldig. Du trauerst auch, und jeder kann nur soviel geben wie er kann. In so einer Situation kannst du ja nicht 'professionell' sein; du musst da auch auf dich selbst acht geben.
    Hach, das war ein schwieriges Wochenende.. Gib dir selbst Zeit. und vielleicht findest du noch mehr gute Erinnerungen. Kartoffelsalat ist schon ein guter Anfang.
    Das Foto ist wundervoll. Die beiden haben wohl einige Abenteuer miteinander erlebt!

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