Responding to Loss and Death
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In my entire life there are some experiences of losses that some of them happened to me and some happened to people who were close to me and it was possible to see their responses, and the time that I spent with them during their suffering from losses was enough to realize their situation and recognize its details.
It is interesting to compare the losses with each other as a way to assess my learning of loss experiences.
At first I like to state my fathers responses toward his two different kind of losing. First one was his mothers death. It happened by a car accident, so it was unexpected and sudden and was enough to shock him. At first days he was quiet and sometimes weeping silently, but one thing that in that time for me was interesting and I never forget, was visiting his mothers grave every night or early morning when it was dark I do not remember exactly how long, but it did not last long. Then after Perhaps three or four weeks it became every Thursdays and probably continues up to now. In our religion Thursday afternoon is a holy time and people believe that this time is the best to pray for spirits absolution.
Another experience of my fathers losses that I like to mention is from wartime. War between our country and Iraq. During that time town almost was empty because it had been attacked by air force, and continued. One time as a result of the bombing my fathers house was destroyed, when we became aware every body rushed to the town and home, what we saw was an unforgettable scene, all doors, windows and walls were ruined and scattered and massed inside the house. Some furniture plus all rugs were safe, but my father touched nothing; he leaned to a wall and was gazing in space. After a short time he said, “leave all these stuff here. I do not need anything, leave them for people.” and turned back to the village. First days he was angry, sometimes he was silent and sometimes yelling at every body and for everything, but the main target of his rush and his offenses was the government. He was swearing to governors and the leader all the time. Then he turned to sadness, but it did not last long and during an interval of war he rebuilt his house.
My mother is different. During that time she was sad and quiet; she was giving thanks to God that nobody was at home in the time of bombardment.
I remember when her sister passed away of cancer, she liked loneliness, she preferred to be alone and cry with her sadness song, but when she lost her nineteen years old nephew she was different. Her nephew was killed in war and she believed that it was a right way to give life, she believed he was martyred. In that time my brother was hospitalized as a war wounded and unconscious, these events made her sad, but she was calm because she believed that it was not wasting the life.
In coping with grief and lost I am not very different when I am angry I like to shout and tell yell and scream loudly, if the people who are my addresses are quiet it can help me to become calm gradually otherwise it make me mad. If my anger is severe and I am not able to take it out directly, I will seek help from imagination, and discharge the energy of anger through fantastic act.
One morning in age eleven or twelve I found a baby cat. She was very small and still needed her mother. it made me very sad and angry with person who put the baby cat out and made her away from her mother. I took the baby cat home and took after her for a period. I do not remember how long but it was enough to be attached to her. One morning when I woke up I found the baby cat dead. It made me unexplainably sad and angry. I was sad for baby cat and I was angry with the person whom I believed was the murderer. I was mad because I was not able to find him or her to tell them: do you like somebody taking your baby away from you? Why you did such a work?
In that age it was very difficult for me to endure that condition. I was unable to do anything except acting harsh and speaking bitterly to an imaginary person who was guilty. I wrote a letter to him about two pages in a harsh and sadness language and told him everything I thought he or she deserved. Then it was my job for a few days to go somewhere alone and read the letter over and over and changed it several times. Later I became aware that my mother also had read the letter and enjoyed it because emotionally she also was like me, angry and sad.
Another major loss in my life is my grandmothers death, when it happened I was ten years old. I never forget that summer afternoon that my mother asked me to go out and buy some kind of meat that was needed for cooking dinner. I disobeyed her command, and refused her asking,