THE GRIEVING WOMAN AT THE GAS STATION


Have you ever had random people tell you their life stories within minutes of meeting them?  I have, and it happens frequently.  When I traveled extensively for work at one time, my seatmates invariably unloaded on me.  I reasoned it was more comfortable for them to tell their struggles to a stranger rather than a friend or therapist.  And...since I was once a psychotherapist, I automatically switched into the listening mode.

I was at the gas pump yesterday when I heard someone frantically calling, "Ma'am, oh ma'am?"  She must have been calling for me several times because the first thing she asked me was if I had a hearing problem.  "Why yes, I do," I responded.  She supposedly wanted to ask me if Paddy was a show dog.  I thanked her for the compliment but explained that he was a mixed breed.

It didn't take long to realize that this was a way for her to reach out to me in a non-threatening way.

She immediately shared with me that her husband of 49 years had recently committed suicide by shooting himself and that they had only moved to the area from Illinois a few months ago to be near their son and 11-year-old grandson.  Apparently, what they hoped would be a great opportunity soured when it became apparent the daughter-in-law did not welcome their visits.  Additionally, her husband kept going through insulin pumps and was awaiting his sixth one after many problems with the insurance company.  She supposed that he had grown weary of his health issues and felt rejected by his son's wife.  Their other son died from cancer 6 years ago, so this son was all they had left.

They were both retired professors from a prestigious university in Illinois.  Her husband had written economics textbooks and translated them into several languages.  Their salaries were modest.  To her surprise, he left her with $4.5 million in investments.  But, as we all know, money doesn't replace those we love.  It just makes the financial part of our lives easier.  She'd trade every bit of that to have her husband back and cuddle next to him through the long and lonely nights.  She now feels guilty that she didn't somehow know that he was depressed and stopped him. She also wondered if she should move back to Illinois because the relationship with her son's family is so broken.  

After about 20 minutes of pouring her heart out, she took a breath and asked me what she should do.  I replied, "Do what makes you happy.  Most people want to make drastic decisions after losing a loved one.  They mistakenly think that moving, buying/selling big items, traveling extensively, or meeting someone new will ease the pain.  It doesn't. Grief is like a black hole that you must keep digging through until the hole is wide enough for you to find a way out into the sun again."  I also suggested that she find someone specializing in grief counseling and/or seek grief counseling groups through the local Senior Center.

I'm glad I was there at that moment for someone who needed to be heard and cared about.  It would have been easy to write her off as a crazy lady and hurry off, but sometimes, it does the soul good to listen...to drown out all the extraneous noise in your own world and to just listen.


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