Conclusion

A bit of backstory

My husband is 22.5 years older than I am, making us what some folks call “age-gappers”. We were married six and a half years ago, have been together as a couple just over nine years, and have known each other just shy of twelve.

Having such a large age gap has carried with it a few problems over the years, but nothing insurmountable.

One of the hurdles we in some ways anticipated was that my husband would lose his parents first.

While that back-of-mind anticipation eased the shock a bit, navigating the aftermath of their loss was not any easier.

The Stages of Grief

Introduced by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying, there are five widely accepted stages of grief. These are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, also referred to as “DABDA”. These stages have long shaped the global understanding of how those who are dying and the ones who are navigating their subsequent loss process grief.

Some sources have gone on to add additional stages such as shock and testing to this list.

Our understanding of the timeline of grief has also evolved. Many now note these stages are fluid in when and if they are experienced.

With shifting stages and timelines, what is clear is that grief is not one-size-fits-all.

A broad overview of my grief journey

Ten months to the day after our wedding, my husband got a distressed call from my father-in-law. My mother-in-law had suddenly – and completely unexpectedly – passed away.

My mother-in-law – the beating heart of my husband’s family unit – was gone. To say we were all shaken is a complete understatement.

The three of us were suddenly thrust into close communication and proximity. This was arguably as much a shock to the system for us as newlyweds as it was for my father-in-law.

Uncharted Territory

Compounding this upheaval, a few months earlier, my issues with anxiety and depression reached an all-time high. My husband and I were, with great difficulty on both our parts, navigating my unprecedented mental health struggles. Prior to that point, I had largely been the even-keel partner. Now I needed help.

With the passing of my mother-in-law, however, my focus instantly shifted. I wasn’t as stuck on my internal struggles but instead on the tangible grief of my husband and father-in-law. It briefly gave me a purpose and allowed me to be completely outside of myself.

What followed this initial period of shock and strength, though, was a difficult five years. These years are, for me, heavily laced with shame, resentment, sadness, and regret.

Hindsight

It took losing my father-in-law earlier this year for me to be able to appreciate the relationship we had. The struggles of the last five years were in some ways eased and the clarity that brought was devastating. I wished and still do that our relationship had been different.

More than that, I wish I had been better. My family needed more than what I was able to give them, and it’s painful to acknowledge that. With the benefit of hindsight, I can better see the relationship for what it was – for better and for worse.

What I seek to share in this post is really just my story. There are many things I wish I could change about the last several years, but the best I can do is reflect.

At this point, my main focus is accepting that all I can do is move forward. While it was painful, what it did provide is an invaluable opportunity for introspection and growth. A chance to turn inward and do my best not to repeat my mistakes.

My Grief Journey: Shock

As I’ve already mentioned, the first stage of my grief journey was shock.

Honestly, it was that way for the loss of both of my in-laws.

My mother-in-law was the rock, the one we all just assumed would always be around. She was in better health, active, and took care of my father-in-law, which was why her loss was so surprising and acute.

On the other hand, my father-in-law had many health issues – both before and after my mother-in-law’s passing. He struggled and suffered for many years. Despite this, he tried as much as he could to maintain his independence and stay positive – while also being realistic.

His final battle, however, was perhaps his most difficult. Diagnosed with melanoma, he spent about a year undergoing surgeries, immunotherapy, and a round of radiation treatment. Ultimately, this all took too great a toll on his body and overall health.

While his death was more expected, it was still quite sudden. Having spent so much time with him over the last five-plus years also made it in some ways more difficult. His loss seemed to rend the gaping hole of loss larger for both of us. It was difficult to fathom that our journey with him was simply … over.

Beyond that, it was time for us as a couple to think about how we would move forward. Losing my mother-in-law so suddenly and early in our marriage, we didn’t have much time to just be married. It was largely uncharted territory that was actually a bit daunting. Akin to how empty nesters often feel I assume.

What seems to have been put into perspective for me throughout this whole process is that no matter how much time you have with someone – how “prepared” you are for their loss – it is still a shock to the system.

My Grief Journey: Anger

Losing my mother-in-law in the midst of my own mental health struggles and so early in our marriage weakened my ability to handle the years that followed.

Instead of maintaining my normally calm demeanor, I began to crumble. I eventually came to rest in a near-constant state of anger and stress. This not only strained my marriage but also my relationship with my father-in-law.

It constantly felt like, no matter how hard I was trying, it still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t helping enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t being kind enough to myself.

Throughout the time between losing my mother-in-law and father-in-law, I became a person I didn’t like. Admitting that about oneself is certainly not easy – or flattering. I do so in hopes of holding myself accountable and not repeating the same mistakes.

What has helped?

A huge help has been therapy – talk and pharmaceutical.

To anyone in a similar situation, I would always advise speaking to a licensed and qualified mental health professional.

I am learning each day to hold myself accountable for my reactions not only then but now as well.

I also practice giving myself the grace to acknowledge that my emotions do not form in a vacuum. While they may not always be proportional to the situation – they are mine to have … and to own.

I carried and in many ways still carry anger for the years it felt like our lives were on hold. For my inability to better interact with my father-in-law, who deserved so much better. The additional stress I piled onto my already strained marriage. And for the rebuilding that we now have to tackle.

A positive:

One positive to come for me, however, has been my reformed ability to logically assess a situation. I’ve also started to develop a bit more confidence in my ability to set boundaries and abide by them.

Not living in a constant state of fight or flight has allowed me to more readily pause and assess. While this was a real struggle for me the last five years, I am actively working to apply this more now.

My Grief Journey: Depression

As I’ve already alluded to, depression – as well as anxiety, PTSD (and/or CPTSD), and ADHD – played a leading role in the last several years.

For me, depression is a vicious cycle. It tends to be a secondary – or follow-up – symptom in most cases. I feel and express a big emotion, then I spiral into a depression in which I guilt myself for this. All of this, inevitably, also leads to shame, sadness, and regret.

My advice when it comes to mental health when dealing with grief and loss is somewhat simple.

Find the sweet spot for you as best you can.

Take time for yourself and understand that you cannot pour from an empty cup.

Don’t be afraid to set boundaries for yourself and your family and stick to those. This may seem simple, but as a recovering people pleaser, this was by far one of the hardest parts of this journey for me.

If you are feeling unable to cope, seek help.

Give yourself grace and don’t feel bad for feeling your feelings.

Grief and loss are never easy and some days you will just survive. Sometimes that is the win for the day. Just getting through it – however that looks.

My Grief Journey: Appreciation

As a small consolation, while I have not reached acceptance I do find myself in an era of deep appreciation.

While my journey is ongoing, I feel it may be a more logical later stage for me than acceptance.

As a way to briefly honor my family of choice, I want to share the parts of them I carry.

From my Mother-in-Law

While my time with my mother-in-law was devastatingly short, I’m grateful for it.

She accepted me and made a great effort to make me feel welcome. We didn’t get a chance to get terribly close, but she was supportive of the parts of me she knew.

She was a voracious reader. As well as a gifted researcher and history and genealogy buff. She contributed not only to the recording of her own family tree, but assisted others in that quest as well.

Perhaps most importantly, she was a fierce friend and advocate. I hope to carry these parts of her into the next stages of my life.

She helped me renew my interest in family history. I want not only to delve deeper into my own but to allow her research to live on. I also have a newly developed soft spot for all things literary and a fresh love for reading.

Perhaps most importantly, though, is a confidence in my desire and ability to help others.

From my Father-in-Law

What I am grateful for, is that in his last few months, our relationship was closer to normal. I was a better version of myself. More importantly, I was better able to meet him where he stood. I was not trying to change him or the situation, just spending time with him. A type of acceptance, in a way, I guess.

Like my mother-in-law, he was a voracious reader. It was something we connected on. He took an interest in what I was reading and because of him, I am more adventurous with my reading. I’ve picked up books I may not otherwise have considered (regardless of whether I finished them…).

His love of all things orange and a truly great backpack have also trained my eye to both. I’m able to pay small tributes to him often. If you ever see me in orange, I’m probably missing him a bit more that day.

His deeply held interests are also something I am more prone to recognizing now. He was an avid birder in the earlier days of his retirement as well as a massively talented artist.

He had a keen eye and a deep passion for the things he loved.

From my In-Laws

From them both, I take with me a family that accepted me for who I was.

They loved each other and their son unconditionally. Both encouraged exploration and challenging yourself. They were always there to lend an ear, a helping hand, or a word of encouragement.

In Conclusion

To sum it all up, grief and loss suck. There’s no way around it – only through.

How you get through is unique to you. Comparing your journey to anyone else’s is an exercise in futility.

Give yourself the grace to feel, while also accepting that what you feel may not always be flattering. Seek help when you need it, but also believe in your ability to navigate difficult things.

Take time to appreciate what your relationships have given you.

Every relationship is made up of all sorts of memories and interactions – positive, negative, and neutral. Try not to dwell in any of these areas more than they deserve. It is ok to acknowledge the uncomfortable parts of the relationship, just as much as it is to celebrate the positive ones.

Take everything one step at a time. It is a marathon, not a sprint, and your pace and route can only be determined by you.

Best of luck to you, and if I can be of any help, please don’t hesitate to reach out.