"We do not aim for erasing people’s pain—only for making it so that they do not face it by themselves."
~Liz James, “How Do Unitarian Universalists Mourn?” World Magazine Fall 2020
Last Fall I shared with you that my youngest brother, Greg, is ill with cancer. I’d like to offer an update and some words about grief.
First, an update on Greg. He received this new diagnosis in October and since then has had surgery and a 6-week course of radiation and chemotherapy. He is doing well right now and I am confident that he will continue to do as well as he can.
What we’ve learned about this cancer is that treatment can slow the progression and that the cancer is not curable. That means Greg is receiving treatment in order to prolong his life for as long as possible while giving him a good quality of life for as long as he has.
I visited Greg and his family in South Carolina over the holidays and was grateful to spend time just hanging out, talking, taking walks, and watching Michigan football. I was with Greg when he “rang the bell” to celebrate his final radiation treatment. Everyone in our immediate family has visited Greg over the past 3 months and it is so good to be together.
Greg, my family, and I are doing as well as we can. And we are grieving. We are grieving the toll of this illness on Greg’s body, mind, spirit and life. We are grieving the losses he has suffered so far. We are grieving the uncertainty and the unknown as we look toward the next scan and the next steps. I know that many of you have experience with cancer or other serious illness and know what this is like.
What I have learned about grief is that it takes time, energy and intention to be with the feelings, and it is not easy work. I’ve learned that, while grief and loss are universal experiences, everyone wants and needs something different for support, so it’s best to ask. I’ve learned that it’s important to share what is happening and share our feelings, and that it is essential to hold hope while we face what is real.
I know that I am experiencing anticipatory grief, the likelihood that this illness will cut Greg’s life short. There are many kinds of grief and many reasons that we grieve. Most of us are familiar with the grief that happens after death, when we lose someone we love. Anticipatory grief is the grief that happens before death. Those of you who have been caregivers know this grief. While there are different kinds of grief, and grief is grief with all the feelings that come with it-sadness, anger, worry, fear, vulnerability, facing our own mortality.
Throughout my years as a social worker and minister, I’ve accompanied many people through loss and grief. In my time with you at OUUC, we’ve had many losses. Loss and grief are not new, and the reason for this grief is something new for me.
I am grateful to have had 12 days with my brother and his family in South Carolina over the new year's holiday, and I am planning my next trip across the country. I have also advised the OUUC board and staff that when my brother and family need me, I will go. I don’t know when that will be; none of us do.
Some of you may be inclined to not ask anything of me during this time. Please don’t follow that inclination. I find great joy in my ministry, and I need all the joy I can get right now! I will be happy to brainstorm with you on how to best meet your request.
It is a skill of the heart to be with someone who is grieving. With the amount of change and loss that we’ve all experienced these past few years, this is a skill that is important to build and practice—we all need extra care right now and we don’t always know the grief that someone is carrying. It’s part of caring for each other and being in community. Thank you for practicing with me.
Blessings on your week,
Rev. Mary
Minister@ouuc.org
