My Bubby (grandmom) died Thursday. I find myself feeling strangely emotionless about her death. I love my Bubby and was close to her, she was a woman who dedicated her life to helping and giving to others. Even in her final days she was concerned about the nurses who tended to her, offering them the food and drink that sat uneaten by her bedside. She lay for nearly four weeks in her bed struggling with death, and finally on Thursday she died with her son (my dad), her daughter, and my mom by her side. My Dad called me minutes later eeked out,
“Hi sweety…” and burst into tears.
He cried close to a minute and then handed the phone to my mom who was able to tell me what I already knew. Every time I feel pain or sorrow it turns out to be for my dad, who is in deep mourning for his mom. I find little emotion inside me that comes directly from my Bubby’s death. Why is that?
I know I am not cold hearted. I am confident in that assertion. I feel for my father. So why do I not feel pain or sadness or grief at the loss of my Grandmother. Many answers come to me:
1. I am protecting myself. I know that pain, sadness, grief, guilt are all emotions I could be feeling now and none of them are particularly pleasant.
2. I am repressing my emotions. Same as #1
3. I am saving my energy to support my father. I like this one, and it is what I kept telling myself (and my mom) when I was out with my kids to see my Bubby before she died. I paid close attention to my sleep schedule and made sure I ate plenty and had lots of energy should my Bubby die and my dad be in deep grief. She didn’t die then, but I was ready.
4. I don’t care. As cold as it sounds this is still a possibility. Maybe I have driven my emotions away with logic – something like this: We all will die, grief is caused by loss (not death), if I do not attach myself to anything in this material world then I will not feel loss when things are no longer there (this could apply to a car or a grandma, a dog or a job, a wife or a favorite pair of pants). I don’t know about this one. On some level I do try not to be attached to the material world, but on another level I enjoy all that life offers. I cry and laugh, I feel many emotions throughout any given day, and I love my kids, wife, dogs, computer ipod, cameras, etc.
5. I’m a guy. Guys don’t cry. Yeah, yeah, could be, but I’ve had loved ones die before and I cried, I missed them, and I was sad.
6. I didn’t know my Bubby as well as I thought I did. I realize only now that I never really got to know my grandmom in that grown-up kind of way. When my Zady (grandpa) died I felt like I had grown up and gotten to know him in a whole new light. I felt like I started to see him for the person he was and not just “my Zady.” He was his own person with his own life outside of my universe. I don’t think I ever experienced that with my Bubby, she has always been to me what she was when I was a kid, “My Bubby.”
7. She’s been old for a long time. It’s not a nice thing to say, but she has been. It’s been a long time since my parents have been able to focus fully on their lives. My mom and dad have dedicated much of their time, energy, emotions and money to care for my Bubby over the last 5-10 years. It wasn’t until she entered Hospice nearly a month ago that I began to think, “Wow, my parents will really be free to do what they want, now.” I felt a bit guilty about that thought, but I live in reality and I don’t like hiding from thoughts just because they are not necessarily appropriate. Of course I never said that out loud, but I thought it, and that’s ok. In some ways I feel relief that she has died. The last month and a half have been torture both for her and my father. Bubby and Cooking have always gone hand in hand. Wether it be a small lunch for two, or a grand dinner for the entire family, Bubby was the one who cooked and fed us all. Ask me or any of my brothers or cousins and the first thing that comes into our heads when we think of Bubby is food. She stopped cooking over ten years ago. That was when “My Bubby” died, when she stopped cooking. Ever since then I have struggled to create a new connection with her from 1500 miles away and it hasn’t happened.
As a side note on #7 I must say that I am extremely proud and inspired by the dedication my parents showed to my Bubby. Along with, “I want to be able to support my family,” one of my top motivations for working hard everyday, running my businesses and doing all the work I do is that I want to be able to care for and support my parents in their old age. They have shown me that “Family” extends on both ends of the generational boundaries, so my kids will need my support, but my parents will too. I pray that I am capable of caring for my parents as well and better than they have for their parents.
As a side note to this whole post: My wife is very saddened by Bubby’s death. I think it’s that emotional muscle again. She is always ready to feel some emotion for someone or something. Her emotional muscle is firm and ready for action at a moments notice. Here she is full of expression for all the emotions you would expect someone to feel for their Bubby’s death, for their husband’s grief, for their father in law’s anguish and grief, for their 9 year old daughter’s not-wanting-to-talk-about-death confusion and such, for all the help that our friends are offering us in this time, etc. She is a well greased emotional machine. Jeesh, I should not have said my wife is “Well Greased” now my mind has totally gone elsewhere…
In Conclusion:
Different people react to death in different ways. I have drawn a diagram of the affect my Bubby’s death has on people and how that affect ripples out into society through each of us that are close to her, spreading out to people we barely know until the whole of society absorbs it. I think I’ll call it the “Emotional Ripple”.
The "Emotional Ripple" My Bubby's death is felt most strongly by those closest to her - Two sons and daughter. Then comes her friends, myself and my cousins, then cousins wives, kids, and close friends, and the ripple slowly works its way out into the broader society, which eventually absorbs it.
I found this blog by surfing by, looking for bubbie and zadie storiers. This might make you smile. Shalom from Bubbie and Zadie …..
Thanks Danny, This looks like a fun book. I’ll definitely check it out!
I found this blog by surfing by, looking for bubbie and zadie storiers. This might make you smile. Shalom from Bubbie and Zadie …..
http://zippy1300.blogspot.com/2009/11/aerospace-scientist-larry-silverberg.html
When my Grandfather passed, I had no emotion either. Granted, I’m sure I was sad of his passing but there was no grand emotion. I don’t think my reason for no emotion was listed. I think that maybe I was just prepared and ready for his passing. He was, after all, sick for a long time and we had already made our peace. Only now do I notice all the little things in my life that he influenced…food I love, little tendencies I do, the things I’ve come to expect. Though he has passed, he lives on in my everyday life. Maybe it’s the same for you.
p.s.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. Chuukese are people who originate from Chuuk, a small island in the pacific. I was born there but raised on Guam.
That’s sweet, what you say about your grandpa. My grandpa used to eat stale bread – He loved it! I thought it was something “old people” did, and now here I am 34, and I love stale bread. There are many things that both my Bubby and Zadie have passed down to me. It is nice to know they live on in that way, and that someday my two year old will (hopefully) feel the same about his grandparents. How do you say Chuuk, is it like Chook? or a different way?
Pronunciation…I’m always leery of pronouncing words that I’m unfamiliar with. Dictionaries make it worse. So…in imitation Webster style, Chuuk is pronounced as one would pronounce the word “chewk”. :)
It sounds like your Bubby had a long life and a full life. She gave to many and received back. She was ready to move on and deserved to.
I completely believe in life after death. As you know I have struggled with it a lot in my life.
Sometimes it just feels like a calm when the time is right and life has been full. Isn’t that love?
Thanks Barbi.
I believe in something after death. I mean “believe” is not really the right word. I’ve seen it so I know there’s something there, but I have only the faintest idea what to call it.
seen it?
When my cousin died from leukemia he was laying on his couch in his living room. I was there with many friends and family. That night I slept in the room where he died. His sister, her boyfriend, my other cousin, my two brothers and my cousin’s estranged father all slept in the room where my cousin died.
I was situated on the edge of the room near the kitchen. In the middle of the night I awoke and saw my cousin standing in front of me, he was dressed in white and glowing. There was a bright light behind him, and all around him. He started taking slow steps toward me. I didn’t know why but I felt like he was going to walk right into me and curl up inside me so I said in a loud firm voice,
“No. You don’t want me. The person you want is over there.” I pointed towards his sister who was around the corner of the “L” in the L-shaped living room thinking that she would be a better place for him to go. What I didn’t realize was that I was also pointing at his estranged dad who was sleeping on the couch (yes, the couch he died on only hours earlier). Seconds later his dad shot up from his sleep and started screaming, “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” I counted the no’s and I remember very clearly there being 7 no’s.
After that I was exhausted and I slept deeply until morning. I asked everyone about it and no one heard his father that night, but I know what I saw and heard.
Years later, in fact only 2 or 3 months ago I was talking with a friend of mine who has been studying death and spirits. I told her my story and she said the spirit was looking for a body to settle in and that I did the right thing by sending it off, however I should have guided it back to the light and not to his sister (or father). She said spirits will abide in a body and can cause harm, or at the very least sap energy away from the host person.
So there it is, my story of seeing after death, and just in time for Halloween!
Question: Does your friend claim that the spirit remains in the body or eventually moves on?
Barbi – She says that the spirit will remain as long as it can and wants to. It is up to the host or someone other that the host to either guide the spirit to where it needs to go, or to forcibly remove it depending on the intent of the spirit. She has studied spirit energy and has offered to do a “check up” on me but I haven’t taken her up on the offer as of yet. A lot of cultures have these concepts in their belief system and I feel pretty convinced what she says is true, or very near to the truth. (Ever hear of a Dibbuk?)
When my Bubby was dying my friend offered to help me travel to her spirit, but it didn’t feel right to me.
I looked it up because I had never heard of it. I assume being the good people they were, that my sisters souls were at peace. BUT I was there when my sister died and I believe I saw her (or maybe felt) soul leave her body.
Wow. That sounds like a powerful experience. I’m not making any suggestions about your sister’s spirit because I simply don’t know enough about the nuances of the spirit world. My friend did say that a spirit of someone you love can cause you harm. After death they somehow get lost or don’t know where to go and will linger near you or in you. Just their being there takes energy from your life force. Then there are actual “evil” spirits who will intentionally bring negativity into your life.
Barbi – She says that the spirit will remain as long as it can and wants to. It is up to the host or someone other that the host to either guide the spirit to where it needs to go, or to forcibly remove it depending on the intent of the spirit. She has studied spirit energy and has offered to do a “check up” on me but I haven’t taken her up on the offer as of yet. A lot of cultures have these concepts in their belief system and I feel pretty convinced what she says is true, or very near to the truth. (Ever hear of a Dibbuk?)
When my Bubby was dying my friend offered to help me travel to her spirit, but it didn’t feel right to me.
Your dad calls you “sweetie”.
That’s so nice.
Yeah.