Note: This article first appeared in A Different Path newsletter in 2002. It is one of my favorite pieces because it speaks to the challenges of grief when it is not as clear cut as sadness from an actual death. Loss is tricky...

Recently, as I sorted the regular pieces of mail with its usual mixture of bills, catalogs and credit card offers, I was caught off-guard by an application from the town sports league inviting my 11 year old son to join a youth basketball team.

Sometimes when things like this happen I can just shrug them off, understanding that his name was just on a list like all the 5th grade boys in town. But other times it knocks me over. And the awareness that he is so not like other 5th grade boys brings me to tears.

The concept of grief is not as clear as it once seemed to me. Once upon a time I figured that it was what you experienced when someone you cared about died. But having a child with severe disabilities makes the potential for grief a daily possibility as we are continuously reminded of what will never be.

I could grieve constantly.

I could cry from the overwhelming emotions that consume my heart when the mother of a 3 year old complains about toilet-training - a complaint I would give a huge sum for. I could fall apart from the ignorant stares and the ignorant comments of blissfully ignorant strangers - and friends - and family. I could really torture myself at Halloween by bringing him treat-or-treating and crumbling as yet another awkward homeowner waits for him to offer his basket - smile with the facade that he just might - knowing deep down that he never will - (and by the way he can't even chew your candy anyway). I could easily grieve at the growing awareness that old friends don't invite us over any more as their lives have grown up with their ever-developing typical children.

I could grieve most of the time - but I don't. In the last 11 years, I have learned to hide my grief as much as possible. It turns out that grief scares people - myself included. Of course the downside is that people - myself included - think that I am stronger than I am and don't always offer support - or in my case, ask for it. It's a real catch-22.

I have found a need to protect myself from grief. When your live with loss on a daily basis, it is mostly a draining and futile endeavor. Being on guard is an essential survival strategy - most of the time. Without this ability to shut down my grief it could easily consume me. I have seen it consume others. Anger, resentment, self-pity - all of these can take hold if grief is not contained. So I work to contain it. But sometimes it slips out anyway. Usually among the seemingly mundane tasks of life - like opening the mail.

Besides this life lesson, I have also learned something as equally important to my survival. The other truth is that there must be times when my grief takes me over. It is essential that sometimes I let down my guard and acknowledge and contemplate the loss - in our case the loss of a perfectly healthy baby boy that never got born and will never play basketball or most of the other things that healthy boys do.

Sometimes this is done privately. Sometimes it helps to have a friend. Generous people ask me, ‘Can I help?’ But the truth is that unless they come to my house and physically give me a hand, they are pretty much on the sidelines of our circumstances.

However, on occasion, if they are the right person (strong and quiet are requirements) and they are there at the right time - there is something extremely valuable that they can do. They can hold me up while I put down my guard and grieve.

Only certain people can do this well. Some people feel the need to try to make it better, or point out how lucky I really am, or try to convince me that my life will get easier. Some people talk of God's plan which - while that may help some people - does not help me. Some people end up needing ME to make THEM feel better about MY life. They can't handle MY reality - so I let them off the hook and put the guard back up.

But when I find that strong person and they offer to shoulder the weight for a minute, I am truly appreciative. There I stand - grief exposed, heaving, crying, raging, maybe a quick wallow in self-pity - as I rail against a letter that came in the mail, and, just for a few minutes, I indulge my grief.

Curiously, usually, before I know it, I'm done. I acknowledge that it was just a mistake, that this ignorant, mundane letter did not know that it would hurt me so. The guard goes back up and to all the world I look like a normal person again - for now...

Over the years, I have learned that there will always be mundane moments that catch me. Because you can't ignore grief all the time. But I know that I can survive these moments. The truth is that a lot of my life is pervaded by joy. Not just because I don't allow grief to consume me but because sometimes I let it do just that. And somehow - in that dance of grief and ungrief - I find a way to carry on.

A million Christmases ago, when my now-teenagers were little, besides the special wishlist items we put under the tree, I added a fairly simple gift of my own. I gave each of my sons a coupon for a 45 minute block of one-on-one time with me each week.

I don't recall thinking that this was THE gift, but I hoped it would help me carve out time to give each of my very different children what they needed.

On Christmas Day, the scrolled-up coupons were quickly discarded for the shinier, more exciting gifts. But a week later, among the have-to-have presents now casually scattered around the room, my one son found a scroll and asked about it. Right then, I took out a calendar and wrote each of their names on designated days and times for the month of January, and we began our experiment.

Dear Annie,

My daughter and son (48 and 56 respectively) do not get along. She refuses to be in his presence, won't enter his house if he's there, nor will she ask him to her house. He is the same towards her.

 

For years we have tried to think through the personal histories that have harassed them in many ways, including their interpersonal problems. I've tried, to discuss some of this with each of them, with little apparent success. My parenting part in their woes I have apologized for, but I can't go back in history and change things. They say they don't blame my single parenting, but that may or may not be true.

I love them both and this falling out is breaking my heart. Any advice?
- Still My Children

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Dear Still My Children,

I wish I had a magic wand answer for you. Even when children are young and fight, parents can feel like they have little power to make them 'get along'. Building bonds that last a life time is challenging. And while it's natural to feel guilt, you are right in that you can't go back and change it. Your children have to make their own choices moving forward. Making peace with the fact that you did the best you could is your journey.

Given that their personal and interpersonal histories were not more positive it's tricky. Though time can heal physical wounds, emotional wounds don't play by the same rules. Time either helps ease tensions or allows unresolved resentments to establish a frosty status quo.

Luckily, as long as the falling out was not due to a truly unforgivable act, there is hope. What is needed is a change of heart. And there are several ways that that can be achieved.

Forces of Fate. Someone gets married or has a child, someone connected to both siblings gets seriously ill or dies. At these times, people have an opportunity to rethink which grudges are important to hold on to and which ones they are willing to let go of. Sometimes, fate hands one party such a blow that the other person buries the hatchet as an act of kindness.

Growth and Wisdom. As we get older we can sometimes admit our own contributions to conflict, learn forgiveness of others, and find a deeper appreciation for family and the ties that bind. This kind of growth can trigger a change in attitude and interaction style that indicates a desire for a new chapter. It can even prompt a more active response - such as a heart-to-heart conversation or a deeply felt letter.

Third Party Intervention. Sometimes people need a bridge. Having an outside person working either directly or indirectly to mediate can help begin to repair the bond. The advantage of a credible third party is that they can validate each side and work to negotiate a softening. Of course it doesn't always work, and there is some risk of being seen as taking sides so this is a challenging role to play. But someone who is respected, who is willing to risk it, who has good personal boundaries and the ability to be both empathetic and challenging can be valuable. A trusted parent, relative or friend, or even a professional may be the right person.

You can always ask, as a favor to you, that they at least try to be bigger than they are right now. Maybe even take a risk to appreciate the other's strengths instead of just focusing on their weaknesses. It may be worth it to remind them of any of the better history that they share, moments they survived together, and the importance of family and forgiveness. (Of course modeling that with your own forgiveness may show the way.) I don't know if your children can manage it right now, but it may be worth a try.

I hope that gives you some clarity, ideas and maybe a little hope. I'm sending wishes for a change of heart and a new direction for your family so that you can enjoy the years to come together.

Please take care, Annie

Annie Zirkel, LPC is a relationship consultant in Ann Arbor, Mi. You can find her at www.practicehow.com. Submit your relationship question to annie@practicehow.com This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it Creative Commons License photo credit: le vent le cri

Dear Annie,

I am writing to you because of a situation that happened this summer that has created such resentment in me that I can't shake it. My husband and I have been married for 25 years and have four children, two with disabilities under the age of 10, a 21 year old who has bipolar disorder and a 17 year old who is very quiet, but otherwise fine.

Of course the big excuse is that his dad has a mental illness, but I just can't get past the hurt that my husband didn't have my back. It's bad enough he said nothing to defend me, but to not say anything after the malicious thing said about our children, is a huge blow.

On the outside I got over it right away, but there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about it and resent my husband for not saying something. Why couldn't he just say 'don't you ever talk to my wife like that and don't you dare every call my kids names ever again or you will not be welcome here'.

Can you tell me how to knock this scene out of my head so it will stop playing over and over again every single day. - Stuck on Resentment

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Dear Stuck on Resentment,

First of all, I want to extend my empathy. Even with fabulous support, the challenges that you and your family face are tough. Adding this kind of insult to the mix is too much and it is understandable that you would want your husband to stand up and say so.

So let's talk about the resentment.

The first task in dealing with resentment is to make sure you've pinpointed the real source. Either on your own, with your husband from the start, or with a trusted friend or therapist - find out what's at the core. If it really is only about this one incident then it is much more resolvable because it is contained. If it involves some deeper stuff - a history of not having your back, other hurts involving the kids and their disabilities, etc. - then it can still be resolved but it will likely take more time and effort.

If you didn't do this already, bring your husband into the loop. You say that, "on the outside you got over it right away." Does he even know that you have resentment? He may actually believe you are fine with the situation especially if his coping strategy for dealing with his dad is to just ignore his erratic mood swings. A lifetime of protecting himself from the effects of this disorder may have shutdown his ability to appreciate that this situation went too far.

Communicate with him and don't wait too long because while some wounds heal on their own, wounds like these tend to get infected, causing all kinds of damage and spreading to the rest of the relationship. Whether by writing him a letter or talking directly, speaking about your experience and asking him to validate that, is where you need to start.

If you can, make room for your husband's side. A relationship is about 2 people so there needs to be room for both. Resentment tends to narrow our focus to what we are angry at and can cause us to lose sight of the whole person.

Can you balance this incident with your husband's strengths? Does he have your back in other areas or other ways? Also, allowing that he too likely has his own, possibly deep, issues to deal with can make way for some forgiveness. Has he (and you) ever worked through the guilt and grief that often accompanies the experiences of having a child (and in your case children) with special needs? Has he ever dealt with how his father's own disability impacted his life - and still does?

Finally, consider what would help you deal with your resentment. What might help counter the hurt? Validation that he understands? An apology for not standing up? A belated response to his dad? An agreement to limit time with your father-in-law or to deal with this as a team in the future? The more clearly you appreciate what would help you, the easier it will be to ask for it.

To 'get this out of your head' you will need a change of heart. Start with compassion for yourself and your children. Asking your husband to validate you (with compassion) and make some amends takes it to the next level and may help you remember your compassion toward him as well.

It takes courage to deal with resentment head on instead of letting it infect you and your marriage. I hope this gives you a place to start. Let me know if you have more questions.

Good luck and take care,
Annie

Annie Zirkel, LPC is a Relationship Consultant based in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She can be reached at (and questions can be submitted to) annie@practicehow.com This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Dear Annie,

My husband and I have been married 10 months and are blissfully in love. We are currently on a cross-country trip together, and all kinds of conflicts are arising. We are fighting about reading maps, miles per gallon calculations, and the fact that my husband is talking on the phone while drinking coffee, and driving in congested city freeway traffic. We are only halfway through our trip. How do we finish this trip compatibly??

Signed - Driving Me Crazy

 

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Dear Driving Me Crazy,

I presume that you mean 'finish this trip' as making it through the marriage right?

So here's what happens. We often go into relationships with our own set of 'rules' on how things are done. You usually agree on enough of these rules to get married. But as the trip goes on, you discover that your partner doesn't seem to know the other rules. And he or she has all kinds of non-sensical, poorly-thought-out ideas on how things are supposed to be done - like how to read a map, how to drive, how to load a dishwasher, how we spend money, how (and how often) we have sex, how we take care of the children, etc.

So what to do? Here's what you need to know to make this trip better:

The other person in the car is not you.

1. You each have your own valid point of view.
2. Curiosity is key. Going into challenges with curiosity versus rigid expectations or, worse yet, contempt (for the other person's 'obviously' inferior way of doing things) can spell the difference between conflict and cohesion.
3. Facts and 'facts' are not the same. Often we state our way of doing things as the 'rule' because it is right for us. Appreciating that there are other ways of doing things that may have different benefits, goes a long way in getting along with others.
4. Kindness matters. When you do have facts or 'best practices' on your side, relating them respectfully (as opposed to righteously) makes it easier to hear.
5. Generosity goes a long way. Being generous about changing some of your ways is how a relationship grows.
6. Generosity goes a long way. Being generous about letting some things go is just as essential as asking the other to change. In fact, research shows that even in good relationships, there are about 10 differences that will never get resolved.
7. Keep your eye on the big picture. Being right can get in the way of being in a relationship. Keeping sight of what really is a big deal in life and what isn't makes all the difference.
8. Think 5 to 1. Having lots of good moments, laughter, pleasure, and nice gestures to counter the challenges makes the trip worthwhile. (Current thinking is a 5 to 1 ratio there.) NOTE: Usually when you are feeling good about the relationship, you aren't as aggravated with your partner's behaviors - so you might want to check what's going on underneath the current disagreement.
9. Have a soothing mantra. Just keep saying: This is a fun adventure! This is a fun adventure! There really are skills to marriage - the more you have, the better the ride.

Hope that helps. Check out my Couples Resources page for more ideas. Enjoy the rest of your trip.

Take care - Annie

Annie Zirkel, LPC is a Relationship Consultant based in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She can be reached at (and questions can be submitted to) annie@practicehow.com This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Creative Commons License photo credit: Hvnly