Acceptance

Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."  In this last stage, individuals begin to come to terms with their mortality or inevitable future, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event. This stage varies according to the person's situation. People dying can enter this stage a long time before the people they leave behind, who must pass through their own individual stages of dealing with the grief. This typically comes with a calm, retrospective view for the individual, and a stable mindset.  (Wikipedia)

Moving into the acceptance stage of grief was a gradual process for myself.  I would describe my first days of acceptance to be those days that depression had given me a day off.  As time marches forward these accepting periods grew in frequency as the lead weights of depression slowly fell away.  In this regard I would agree with the view that depression is a necessary stepping stone towards acceptance, and that it is, in itself, the same thoughts and feelings, but without the intense feelings of hopelessness, sadness and woe.

In my particular case, the first five years of my grief were complicated by the worry that our youngest child may have inherited the genetic disorder that had taken her mother, and her brother, at the tender age of nine.  A myriad of hospital trips and tests, on an ongoing basis, kept this worry in the forefront of my mind.  When the day came that conclusive tests were available, the relief to find she was clear was indescribable.   

With this worry abated, I found a small path had been cleared in my mind, allowing me to switch onto other matters related to my grief.  It wasn't too long before I had decided it was time to start letting go, and finally scatter Claire's ashes. 

These ashes had served as a focal point for some aspects of my grief whereby I would often find myself directing the conversations I would have in my mind (and sometimes out loud) towards Claire's ashes, and so felt like this would be a another huge personal loss. Having decided upon a location, I sought permission, and was subsequently refused based on a National Trust policy.  The location in question was a small castle with tremendous meaning to both myself and Claire, having spent much time there, including the day we met.  You could say we considered it was 'our' place.  

Claire and I had always been a pair of mischievous practical jokers, and therefore I strongly believe she would have approved of my decision to go ahead anyway, permission or not.  I could almost imagine her tittering with naughty glee as we made our way up the many steps to the top of the castle keep.  Our plan was simple, wait for the right time, check the wind direction (an essential step for anyone considering a similar tribute), let her ashes fly into the wind, and then leave, fast!  Arriving home I felt a sense of satisfaction, both in laying Claire to rest in a beautiful place, and letting go of what I perceived to be my last physical attachment to Claire.

This step brought with it a slice of light to add to my gloom pie, a pie that would emerge from the emotional oven around three years later, perfectly cooked, and now resembling a peace pie.  Depression slowly gave way to fond memories and appreciation for having had the privilege to share some time within these peoples lives.   Photo albums that I had previously avoided looking at because of the intense emotions I had experienced when doing so, were now a source of happiness, with each fond memory forcing a smile.

I still miss Claire and Oliver desperately, it's likely I always will.  I think about them often, no longer shadowed by the darkness of prior tragic events, but now balanced out by all the precious memories we shared, and the joy they both brought into my life.  Sometimes the sadness is there, especially on special occasions, but for the best part my thoughts are now balanced and no longer dominated by my loss, now evened out with my gains.  

It has been a long and difficult journey towards acceptance, and there were many times that the feeling of hopelessness, and the belief that the pain would never end, had brought me close to giving up.  I am thankful for having had the responsibilities of caring for our young child, as this removed the option of these particular dark thoughts from the table quite quickly.   I hadn't dreamed that this level of peace would be possible, convinced that my life from now on would consist of painful memories, regret, and a constant battle to hold back the tears.  There is hope.  Things change, emotions change, in fact it is fair to say that I have changed.  My views in regards to what is important in life, and what is not so important, have become quite solid and redefined, bringing me nicely to my final point.  

I personally do not believe that the (five) stages of grief end with acceptance, i think there may be an important sixth step one needs to take once levels of acceptance permit, and that is learning to live again, without guilt, and with a clear pursuit of ones own goals and aspirations.  Grief had a tendency to make me push away many good things in my life, however after making an effort to indulge in more positive pastimes, it was soon easy to see the positive effect it had on my overall emotional well-being.


See all Poems about Acceptance.