Death and the aftermath

Surviving a family death is one of the hardest things that a person has to endure during a lifetime. Recently, my sister, Joy, and I were discussing coping mechanisms and how we've hardened to death in general. When Jann, my older sister, died suddenly on February 17, 2004, I felt as if I would never recover. I was so angry at God, and society, and at Jann. I chose God, because surely He could have prevented it, society because "they" went on as if nothing had happened, not recognizing the turmiol and agony that we were left with, and Jann, because I suspected that she died because of years of self-inflicted abuse to her body. Jann died on a Tuesday, and I returned to work the following Monday. My work policy provides 3 days of bereavement for the loss of a first degree relative. So, I went back to work that Monday, with my life in shambles. My sisters, Joy and Jill, didn't go back to work immediately and ultimately left the jobs they were in. My brothers' lives change forever. David became and continues to be self absorbed; his actions clearly demonstrating that he either doesn't care or isn't aware of how much he hurts others. Jimmy, became even more introverted and gave up on the "good life," the one free of addictions and reverted to his earlier lifestyle (Jann died on Jimmy's birthday). My mom took a month off of work, spending time with her own sister. She has managed to go on and to show strength that I can't imagine having if I were her. We suffered a loss that in our world was equivalent to a national tragedy, our 9/11. I thought for sure that Joy would die during this time. She was a shell of her former self, going through life without truly living.

Then Matt died. He was Jann's youngest son. He was 18 years old and 3 days out of Marine boot camp. The doorbell rang at 11 pm that night, October 18, 2005. I was alone and barely 11 weeks pregnant with Noah. Danny and his father were a day into their trip to Colorado. I knew before I reached my front door that someone was dead. I opened the door and surveyed the crowd; Jill, Johnny (Jann's oldest son), and David. Who did that leave? Joy or Mom, Jimmy? It was as if there was water in my ears, I couldn't hear. I saw their mouths moving.....I was on the floor and Jill was holding me. David and Johnny stood awkwardly in my doorway, crying. It was Matt...possibly murder....maybe just a drug overdose. But dead, nonetheless. I had spent the entire day with him when he graduated from Marine boot camp JUST 3 days before. He stood so tall and proud, excited about the life ahead of him. So pleased with himself and pleased that Danny was there in support of him, kind of like a father. He had so much potential. I remember crying and hurting and again experiencing the anger. That anger is indescribable. But Joy, she never cried. She helped me to eulogize him and while showing sadness through her body language, never cried. Never really talked about it.

We lost my Dad when I was 18. The details of his death are so blurry to me. It's almost as if I watched the events as an outsider or in a movie. I can't remember what I actually experienced and what I was told. His life in many ways was lost to alcoholism years before his physical body gave in.

With the most recent death of Danny's father, I've realized that I have become quite hardened to death. It's as if my mind won't allow me to fully deal with the devastation that comes. Hardened is different from denial, at least that's what Joy and I have decided. It's more of a protective mechanism that allows me to continue to live and to remember the positive. I've mentally prepared myself for the likelihood of experiencing many more deaths. I've prayed and pleaded for my brothers and nephew to take control of their addictions and to think of their small children. I've watched members of three generations suffer from various addictions; I know that the genetic predisposition is strong and I too am at risk. I shutter at the thought of Noah and Addie having inherited something from me that could destroy them.

But, knowledge is power. I'm a genetic counselor because of the devastation that my own father caused our family. I help families because I can relate to their family histories. My empathy is genuine, because I've lived it. I am proud of who I am and where I come from. I freely talk about this with all of you because, for the first time in my life, I'm not embarrassed.

In the aftermath of death or any devastation, it's important to survey the survivors. I'm a survivor and while I might be hardened to death and my tears don't flow as freely, I still hurt, but more importantly, I still love. Jann has been dead for over 5 years and I love her as much as I did the last time that I saw her. I don't think of her everyday anymore....because I'm busy living.