Loss, Mourning and Comfort

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A wife takes her abruptly ill husband to the ER. It’s COVID, and he disappears into the institutional labyrinth. Little does she realize it will be their final parting. A family gathers outside a nursing home window, peering in at their mother with coronavirus. Stable at the time, days later she suddenly crashes, ends up on a ventilator and soon passes, alone. The nurses and doctors silently weep over a middle schooler who long battled leukemia, now cut down by COVID, their grief deepened by a profound sense of helplessness.

The loss of a family member, close friend, trusted colleague or, worst of all, a child is painful enough under normal circumstances. However, in the midst of a pandemic, like much else in our lives, grief is a different animal. For one, researchers estimate for every person who succumbs to our pandemic, an average of nine close family members will be affected, not to mention friends and colleagues. As deaths escalate, waves of grief will increasingly wash over our society.  

During less taxing times, loss and mourning occur against an existential backdrop affording some comfort. We rely on this foundational sense of normalcy and the presence of family and friends to buttress us against the impact of losing a loved one, but the pandemic upends this support system. One is challenged not only by sadness and increased social isolation, but also growing alarm over rising infections and deaths. For those unable to be with the dying person, the anguish can be that much greater. This mental witch’s brew grows more toxic from the added stress of pandemic-related perturbations in our daily lives.

Disbelief and Denial

The most common initial reaction to losing a loved one—disbelief or denial—is worsened when the deceased appeared healthy prior to contracting the disease, had no known risk factors, or succumbed quickly. Anger is another frequent response. When we can’t make sense of a situation (“Why did this happen?”), we often look for someone or something to blame. This anger may be directed at an employer, the government, god, medical staff or even at the deceased for not doing more to stay safe. Then there is survivor guilt. “Why them, but not me?” is a common question following an abrupt loss that, again, seems to defy reason. The more the deceased was like one’s self and the greater their suffering, the more likely survivor guilt will emerge.

Eventually, disbelief, anger and survivor guilt give way to a profound sadness wherein the reality of one’s loss feels abjectly stark and final. With the pandemic, however, this sorrow is often mixed with angst and loneliness. The emotional wound is amplified by a sense of risk, uncertainty and physical distancing. Common thoughts include, “Will this happen to me or someone else I love?” or “Was I infected by this person?”

What can one do?

• First, expect and accept a wide range of emotional reactions. Unless these grow too intense, they indicate you are engaged in a restorative process, an innate part of grieving. Just as a physical wound often hurts while healing, so too does an emotional one.
• Next, we all need someone to tell it to, so connect with others you trust. During this time of physical distancing, we are fortunate to have technology as a stand-in. There’s a Swedish proverb that states: “Shared joy is double joy, and shared sorrow is half sorrow.”
• As always, when hurting emotionally, be kind and supportive to yourself. Healthy eating, exercise, nature interaction and spiritual practices damp down emotional distress and increase well-being. Whatever your source of spiritual sustenance, make it an ally in your healing.
• Finally, allow the grieving process to determine the timetable. There is no set period for mourning, no fixed sequence of steps. The heart knows what we should feel and for how long. The pandemic changes a lot, but it doesn’t change this indwelling capacity; what some call “the wisdom of grief.”  

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