To the Angry Ones
Letters to my patients, day 28
Life is unfair. Just hearing the word cancer ended life as you knew it.
Why us? Why him? He was so healthy, did all the right things, he does not deserve this. Our marriage was so strong, this is a terrible way to end a beautiful life. How can everyone else go on like nothing is happening? I wish they would stop smiling. Why does life continue on?
There is lots to be angry about on this journey.
Once he takes his final breath, your entire world will stop spinning. This crashing halt will knock the air out of your lungs, send your mind spinning, force you down into the depths of grief. There is no way this gets better.
Outwardly you have donned the mask of normalcy and mastered a pretend persona of peace. But alas, the sun will rise again tomorrow. You will glare out the window, upset at the brilliance of a new day. Frustration builds, triggered by the memory of him — which seeps out of everything around you. Lives as intertwined as yours are painful to separate.
Hurt breeds anger. And anger, if not addressed, builds walls to block grief from entering, sitting with you in this pain, and guiding you to healing.
Your anger is completely justified. The world should stop in reverent recognition of a life lost, mourning the end of a beautiful love as you knew it. Your life will never be the same. The sunsets make you cry, your favorite food loses all flavor, you cannot bring yourself to sing in the shower, the garden fills with weeds, Christmas morning you sip coffee alone by the tree, nobody understands this feeling.
But just like it appears that everyone else continues on as normal, remember that everyone else experiences loss too. It is a part of life, though generally privately experienced. Their lives have once stopped too, grief has found them and been a mutual companion through their heartache.
It is good to be angry, allow yourself to recognize that emotion during this journey. Don’t repress, keep feeling. The more space you allow for anger to just be, the more you will understand the sadness behind it. And once you allow yourself to mourn the loss that has triggered your anger, life begins to move on for you too.
You wake up and realize the sunshine is a welcome friend.
Your grandchildren ask for stories and you can talk about your wedding without crying.
You begin to cook again, food is appealing.
You embrace the silent loneliness, allowing the empty space to honor a memory of your best friend.
You recognize that the world is not against you, others have been through this pain, that life goes on but will never be the same — for any of us.
When you are angry, take what you need:
Anger is normal, I will allow it to be part of my processing.
Grief is a friend who brings healing, this will get better.
Other people have experienced loss too, I can find friends who relate.
Life will go on, but I will never forget the one I lost.
I will continue taking this journey one day at a time.
Thank you for being here,
This is part of a 31-day series of letters to my patients — those undergoing a work-up, diagnosis, or treatment for cancer. Topics are also focused on those caregiving and supporting individuals affected by cancer. This is not an easy journey, but you do not have to do it alone.