Grief is strange. Everyone grieves differently, and it is so difficult to see why one person may completely break down when they heard of a death, while one standing right next to them keeps on, calm and quiet.

In my family, we have always been very open about death. From an early age, I was going to wakes and funerals, spending half the day at the cemetery on a Sunday, wandering the rows of tombstones, learning my letters and numbers, playing “don’t let the dead people grab you!” with my brother. We would bring snacks and drinks with us, along with gardening tools, flowers and various plants, and a blanket to sit on and relax under a nearby tree. It sounds strange when I mention this to people, because this definitely is not the norm, especially for children. I say I’m used to it because I’m Irish, and we celebrate death in a different way from most. It is also extremely death positive to be around the dead and dying, especially from such an early age.

I know some people who never went to a wake or funeral until they were in their 30s. When asked why, they said their parents did not want to scare them as children. Really? For me, the first death I truly remember was my Grampa.

I remember the last time I saw him vividly. My brother and I had been told we had to stay quiet, because Grampa was sick upstairs, and Gramma did not want us to bother him. Well, one day everyone was outside, and I had to go to the bathroom, so after I went, I snuck up the stairs, and peeked inside his bedroom door. “Grampa?” I asked, timidly, as I looked into the dark room. I could barely make him out, laying on his bed. “Jesus Christ. Get the hell out of my room, damnit!” he yelled, and I screamed and ran, sobbing down the stairs, and out to the patio. “I just wanted to tell Grampa I loved him.” I told my parents and Gramma, as my mother quickly went in to calm Grampa down, and Gramma and my dad calmed me down. Grampa had cancer, and I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was not good. Several days later, he passed away at the hospital; my mother, aunts, and uncles talked to Gramma, and wanted to give her a break, so they had him admitted for a few days. The night he passed, I woke up and looked out my bedroom door. I saw a shadow, “Grampa?” I asked, and I felt a calming presence and heard his voice “It’s ok, go back to sleep.”

The following Saturday, we had his memorial mass, and my brother and I, along with all of my cousins (all 20-something of us) got up on the altar and said what we would miss most about Grampa. “I will miss him taking me to the bank for a lollipop and then the playground to swing.” I said. I knew that Grampa was gone, and would not be seeing him again.

A few years later, our dog was sick with cancer (that dreadful C-word again). She came into my room one night, and I just knew that she was tired, and needed me to be with her. I climbed out of bed, grabbed my pillow and blankie, and I lay on the floor next to her. “I love you, Emma,” I whispered as I cuddled into her side for the night. The following day, my brother and I went to CCD. When we came home, we noticed that Emma didn’t come to see us. “Where is Emma?” we asked. “We put Emma to sleep this morning.” My mother told us. This was not something we had heard in the past, so we asked what she meant. “Emma was very sick. We took her to the doctor this morning while you were at CCD, and she is dead now, and with Grampa in heaven.” At this point, we understood and we cried a bit, but knew that she was in a better place and not sick or tired anymore.”

Today, so many people are so far removed from death, that they do not know what it means to die, or how to grieve. We have lost the view of death positivity, and so many feel they are immune to ever dying. There is no talk of planning for death, at any age. In fact, when it is brought up, one is often told that it is morbid or terrible that they would want to discuss such a thing. Well, why not? Everyone dies. It is a part of life. In my family, we are all prepared, and I have even had an active part in planning several funerals for family members.

When it comes to grief, though, that is a whole other beast. I have been told that I am unfeeling in the past, because when someone dies, I tend to move into the memorial planning phase, and feel my grief later. Often, as a child, we heard the story of the banshee, an Irish spirit who tells of the death of a family member by crying, wailing, or shrieking. Old Irish funerals would have keeners, women who would come to the funeral and cry and wail, imitating the banshee. This expression of grief is not unique to the Irish, but it is not seen universally.

Personally, I am experiencing grief in a different way than I have in the past. One of my uncles passed yesterday; an uncle I have never met, only heard of in stories. I woke up a bit before 2 in the morning, and just lay in bed, trying to figure out what it was that woke me up. I knew that someone died; this is not the first time I’ve had that middle of the night wake up feeling the familial loss. When the phone rang a few minutes later, I knew it was someone in Ireland, and felt peace again, and went to back to sleep. Waking up later, I took Little Man downstairs to see Papa, and found him on a video call with my aunt in England. When he hung up, he just looked at me and said “John is dead.” No emotion, just “he’s dead.” I asked what happened, and he filled me in on the few details he got during that 2 am call.

Now, I have never met this uncle. He and my father had a big falling out well before I was born. I only knew his name, and that he had a son (whom I met back in 2017 when I went over for another cousin’s wedding). My dad has spoken to his brother less than a handful of times my entire life. What I’ve noticed this last day and a half, is how he is grieving this loss. I’ve seen relief, that this part of his past is behind him, and that he doesn’t have to worry about the call coming that he has expected for so long. There is shame that he never fully mended the fence and reconciled. Shame and anger that he cannot be there for the funeral (it is in Ireland, family only, and will be live-streamed, so we will be watching early in the morning). And just the sadness at the loss of a sibling.

Papa died well before I was born, well before my parents met, so I do not know how Dad reacted to that loss. When Nanny was dying of cancer (there it is again!), my parents went over for 2 weeks to see her and say their goodbyes, and she told him not to come over for the funeral. When she passed 2 months later, we had a memorial said for her over here (this was before the internet and streaming of masses), and then we went over that summer as a family and visited her grave. We always visit graves; my great-grandfather is buried not far from the town, so we pay him a visit as well (that reminds me, I need to inquire about sandblasting for his stone so it is legible again; that salty air is not good for it).

For me, I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now. I have that nagging feeling in the back of my throat that I want to cry, but as soon as I notice it, it goes away. I grieve for my cousin, who has lost his father. I grieve for my dad, who has lost a brother, and a relationship that was never healed. I wish he could be there to be with his brother and sisters, as they walk through this loss, but with COVID, it is just not feasible.

I feel this loss. I knew we lost someone even before we got the call, as I have with so many family members. But, those losses where I knew, I had been extremely close with the person who passed. This loss is throwing me for a loop, and it is making me uncomfortable. I grieve the loss of someone whom I never had a relationship with, and I don’t know how to handle this one.

What is your family’s relationship with death? How do you grieve loss? Do you have a plan for when you, or your parents, or any other family member die? Does just the word “DEATH” make you uncomfortable? Take some time this weekend and just think about it, talk about it, research it. Check out Ask a Mortician over on YouTube for a very death positive worldview, and some humour as well.

I’ll check in again next week, let y’all know how I’m doing with this. Until then…