Grief, loss and alzheimers

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In 2013 I had my first experience of grief, true, moving, heart-wrenching grief. It was a time in my life where I wasn’t sure if I could carry on. Simultaneously I became a carer to Martha, I supported her through her grief, I remember on the 2nd morning of Dad passing, his body laid out and Martha nestled against the coffin, she woke up in shock, confused about what had happened, needing explanation. I had to tell her, yes, what she knew in her heart was true, her husband had passed away.  Over the next few months, we journeyed like this, dancing with grief and loss. I explained her husband died, she cried, she forgot and so the cycle repeated.  I didn’t do my grieving until early 2015, I lost a job and everything came to a head. My heart was imploding as I faced this impossible task of life, up until this point I had a purpose which was wrapped up in my monetary value, without that I knew nothing of surviving life. I had been reduced to my carer identity, I was an unwilling participant in the caregiver role, and now I had found myself in that role permanently.  I survived the grief, I grew from the grief, I journeyed in the grief and found the parts of it that made me who I am, I believed I would not face grief again until Martha left this earth.

Over the years I have learnt to manage my grief and sadness with Martha, when I smile she smiles, when I laugh she laughs, when I’m angry she is angry, and when I am sad she is sad. She is overwhelmingly sad, her eyes tear up, her bottom lip drops, she is confused and heartbroken. She absorbs emotion like a sponge, I reserve my tears for quiet moments alone, showers, bed, car rides alone.  When news began to break of the March 15th terrorist attacks I could not contain the grief. It spilt into every part of me, leaking out in sobs, tears, uncontrollable rage.  I was heartbroken, devastated, cycling through the stages of grief. The world as I knew it was changed forever and I could not stop the tears from flowing. Martha cried with me, not knowing what the tears for her, her heart ached, her soul bled just as mine did, I could not contain the devastation that was erupting and I could no longer protect her from the grief.  The common misconception is that people with alzheimers have no worries, don’t experience the same things we do, this, in my experience, is not true. Martha feels everything, she absorbs the happiness as well as the sadness. She can’t translate anything into words but she transmutes pain into love. The beauty of having no judgement, no hatred, no thoughts is that life is lived on a wairua level. Grief is a time when I can’t hide my emotions, instead of holding so tightly to them I have begun to let go. I wrap my grief tightly around me, keeping it safe from Martha, but as I learn and grow in my emotional capacity, I am learning to allow Martha into this world, to use her superpowers to transmute pain into love.

Always with Love,

Kyrin x

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