Posted by Heather Cross on June 03, 2010 02:15 p.m.
Five months ago, my boyfriend's mother, Peg, passed away rather unexpectedly from complications with her cancer treatment. She was more than his mother. She was his confidant and the family’s support system. Peg was a fighter. I only had the opportunity to meet her once, at a breast cancer walk, and she was every bit a proud survivor and grateful to still be alive.
Unfortunately, as a result of her breast cancer treatment, she developed leukemia five years later. It was a blow to my boyfriend, Ben, and his family. This time around, it was going to be much more difficult for Peg to overcome this new illness. I remember the night he told me she was sick again, and he seemed to be unable to fully comprehend the situation. The fear of his mother’s death shook him to the core and affected him severely. Trying to console him without overstepping my boundaries was difficult, and I had a difficult time defining my role. I reminded him that he needed to believe in his mother, and nothing else, because she was the one who was battling this terrible disease again.
I received news from Ben five months later that his mother had suffered a brain aneurysm, and was now brain dead. His family ultimately decided to take her off life support later that evening. The next day, I drove to Ben’s hometown to be with him and meet his family for the first time. Despite the sad circumstances, it was still a good meeting, and they welcomed me into their family.
Having known Ben for over three years, I knew his mother was his rock. It was extremely difficult for me to see him suffer. I tried my hardest to be his rock, and at first, I thought I was strong enough for that role. The thing about dealing with a loved one's grief is that it's not about finding the right words; it's not about getting them flowers; it's about being there for them regardless of your own reservations. When your loved one is upset, depressed, agitated, crazy, what matters to them is the constant reminder that you understand and are willing to care for them no matter what.
My advice for those who are dealing with a grieving partner is:
Be their rock: They’re probably going to be at a loss and feel as though their world is crashing down on them. Make sure they know that you’re there to weather the storm with them and help with their grief.
Give them space: It may seem like the last thing you should do, but it’s necessary. They need their own time to grieve and think about everything that has happened. It’s not about being with them at every second, but at the times when they need you.
Grief has no order: They may be optimistic one day and depressed the next, and although it may not make sense to you, it’s okay. Eventually, they should accept death as a natural part of life and hopefully return to a balanced state of mind. If they do not, and feel there is no reason to go on, you need to seek help.
Be a listening ear: Try to stay away from giving your own personal advice simply because you cannot directly understand what they are going through. It’s best to let them know you are willing to listen to their issues and continue to support them throughout this process.
The grieving process is a long and hard one. It doesn’t make sense at times; sometimes you’ll take a step forward only to get knocked two steps back. Being “the shoulder” for your loved one is not an easy role, but serves to strengthen your relationship if you’re able to get past it. Ben is my best friend, and I’ll be there to support him through anything.