Suffering Loss-Personal Narrative Analysis

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The idea of death has been something that I have long obsessed about. My parents were both forty years old when I was born. I was told that I was a complete surprise; considered as a “bonus” baby. Because my parents were so much older than most other children’s parents; I have constantly lived with anxiety about losing them. I had always believed that I would be parentless at a young age. These thoughts and fears that I had were often overwhelming and obsessive. In my mind, I was mentally preparing myself for when the time came that I was faced with that situation. Fortunately, both of my parents are alive and well, both eighty years old.
I remember the summer of 1985 like it was yesterday. I was ten years old and not a care in the
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Little did I know, one cannot prepare oneself for tragedy or death of a loved one. Grief is an involuntary reaction to suffering loss. Something for which I was not prepared to experience, better yet help my children get through the process in the most healthy way possible.
Death to me as a child and through my young adulthood seemed like something so abstract or conceptual; something that just did not happen to me, only other people. Being a mother, I have had morbid “what ifs” that most people do not discuss or admit to having, for fear of judgment. I had always looked at death as something so far off, something that happens to you when you are old. When I thought about dying, my visions were mostly those of falling asleep and not waking up. I believe that I mostly thought about the dying part and not about the grief. Losing my brother and ex-husband have been by far the most painful experiences in my life. One truly does not realize what they have until it is
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Our gentle giant would not recover. I knew my miracle was not coming. I was mad at God for allowing the suffering to prolong as long as it did. I was mad that my brother had to leave us when he did. Even though the neurologist told us that my brother’s strokes were so intense and severe that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, I believe my brother knew what was happening and I could see the fear in his eyes the few times he opened them. I felt such pain and guilt because my prayers for a miracle slowly turned to prayers for his death. I wanted the pain to end not only for him but for the entire family. When we made the decision to remove him from life support, I was relieved. What I did not expect was that his strong body would sustain him without life support for several more days. Why would he not just die? I lashed out at the Lord for his pain. What lesson, what good could there be in this experience. I do not think that I will ever have that question

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