Let’s face it death is an inevitable experience.

Each one of us, sooner or later, will deal with the death of a loved one in our lives. Along with death comes grief. Grief looks and feels different for everyone. How we navigate through grief is as individual as a snowflake. People in the same family grieve differently for the loss of a parent or a sibling. There are no time limits for grief. Each of us will process the loss, the sadness, the confusion, and the despair on our own terms. All that, based on our coping skills and life experiences.

Unfortunately, there is no one book with a ‘one size fits all’ as we deal with grief, loss, and death. There are many resources out there to help you navigate your grief. And it’s essential to be mindful that it will look and feel different for everyone. The information you find helpful may not be useful for someone else. It’s important to be curious, be kind to yourself and to others as they take that journey through grief. As we deal with our last words. Or lost words we wanted to say, but had the time stolen from us by death.

The conversation of death is a party killer. It is difficult to find a group of people who feel comfortable talking about death and grief.  There are grief support and resources available, but sometimes it takes effort to find a safe place, a safe space to open up in your grief.

From the article in Psychology Today Grief:

I’m sure, at some point, each of us has regrets about what we said or should’ve said, but didn’t say once our loved one has died. It’s a reminder that we are human and doing the best that we can at any given time.

Similarly, the misperception that “more” grief is better or that there is a proper way to grieve can make the process more difficult.

For some people, grief is a short-term phenomenon, also known as acute grief, although the pain may return unexpectedly at a later time. But other individuals may experience prolonged grief, also known as complicated grief, lasting months or years. Without help and support, such grief can lead to isolation and chronic loneliness.

Again, we must focus on the good memories, the cherished and fun moments shared with the person who has died. If you feel this intense sense of regret, of words not spoken, I have been in those regrettable shoes. One way to cope with her death was to write her a letter. My letter expressed my sense of loss at her death. I was even angry at her (like that makes a lot of sense). Feelings are feelings and they often don’t make any sense, but they can be intense, especially the value we place on the relationship. We can feel lonely.

On a personal note, I too have had those regrets of lost, last words in dealing with my grandma. I was a new RCMP officer in Tisdale trying to survive this first posting as a single mom of a baby daughter. Limited resources of support for childcare made it an awful time. Back in Manitoba, my grandma was dying and there was a helpless feeling to be far away and not able to tell her how much I loved her one last time.

It is interesting to see now, as time passes, I did not realize it back then that it did not matter if I was at her bedside or not. The love we shared we keep forever in our hearts. They know we loved them even if we are not standing by their deathbed. They know we loved them even if our last words might have been in anger, dismissive, or less than loving. It is okay not to have last words as love remains. There are no lost words.

Grief and our feelings don’t have to make sense but they need to be acknowledged and dealt with in order to find your way to move forward in happiness. In my letter to my grandma I expressed sincere gratitude for her nurturing spirit over my lifetime, I thanked her for the amount of time we had together before she died, I thanked her for the little things she gave me as a child such as compassion and love of baking.

This love of baking has carried me through the darkest times of my own life as I navigated years of workplace bullying and violence. Of course, this doesn’t mean I eat everything I bake, quite to the contrary it feels great to bake and share the goods with others. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing someone happy eating a chocolate or butter tart that I made with tender loving care.

As I watched my dad who at 96 3/4 years old, began to get ill, there were no lost words as we had open loving conversations to the very end. He was not one to share his inner feelings and yet we could navigate the conversation of dying, death, and what it looks like in the end. It can be a difficult conversation and there are times when we have to have those last words. Looking back on my relationship with dad I feel incredibly thankful that he felt safe enough to share his fears and ask for forgiveness. If we listen to family and friends who are dying they want to be heard, this is about them, and what they need. Seeking to understand their last words is part of dealing with grief.

Not only did the lessons and gifts from grandma help me in stressful times, but also she showed me the importance and value of self-care. Self-care for me is baking, I love it. Learning how to take care of our mind, body, spirit, and emotions are called self-care. This is what I refer to now as my self-care tool kit. Self-care is especially important when we are going through the loss of a loved one. Death is a stark reminder life is a gift, fragile and there is no forever.

I think it’s important that we share the lesson so that other people don’t have to suffer as we did. Share the lessons not the pain. The hope is that we learn to cherish ourselves and cherish others. But doing this while we have the opportunity to say the last words. And not let them be lost because we forgot, we neglected or we were absent from a loved one.