Surviving the Whirlpool

by Kath Cheer
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I’m getting married on Saturday – something I thought I would never do. I am very happy to be marrying, although it’s not as momentous as it might have been if we hadn’t had our wedding three-and-a-half years ago. In July 2022 we had a lovely commitment ceremony and barn dance which lots of friends and family came to. So we already feel married.

This time around, we have six guests celebrating with us, a morning ceremony followed by coffee and then lunch. It will be lovely and as stress-free as a marriage can be.

My partner suggested getting married to protect me financially if she dies first. Of course, she may not die before me but there is a good chance she will as she is older than I am.

Although we have been talking about dying and long term care needs, it’s very hard to actually imagine what it would / will be like to lose my soon to be wife (I wonder will I ever get used to using that word!). And, of course, I don’t need to dwell on this, we are both happy and healthy and expect to live many more years.

But one of us will lose the other at some point – that is inevitable. And, although we don’t like to talk about it in our society, no-one gets through life without experiencing grief at some point.

I think that, even when it’s an expected death, bereavement can be experienced as shocking, unbelievable and acutely painful, both at the time and sometimes long afterwards. Our lives are never the same again.

I was reading about the Whirlpool model of grief this week. Picture yourself paddling in your canoe along the river of life. Imagine suddenly coming to some rapids and having a terrifying fall to the whirlpool many metres beneath. Once in the whirlpool you are confused and disorientated, buffeted around

• onto sharp rocks where the pain is excruciating
• into an area of calm which makes you think maybe the fall didn’t even happen
• into shallow water where you get stuck and are unable to do anything
• nearly capsizing and feeling unable to breathe
• feeling angry that the river did this to you or guilty that you did something wrong

I could go on.

If you are stuck in that whirlpool or you have been dragged back there when you least expected it, I can help. I can be with you in those difficult times and, when you are ready, I can help you to patch up or rebuild your boat, ready for the journey ahead. The waters may be choppier than before, the scenery may look different, you may yearn for your previous life but there will be new sights to see, new skills to learn and perhaps good memories will come as well as sadness.