Grief comes in waves. Long after you think the storm has passed. We all process it differently. A 16th birthday is pretty big milestone in the states. I imagine that can be a magnifying glass for grief and pain. I know my friends feel the weight of their son's birthday and the date of his passing quite heavily.
I lost my mom 16 years ago. To this day something can remind of her and it's like time stops. It's dizzying as the world around me moves on. Then I catch up again until the next wave.
Witnessing a cherished part of your life die, while you do not and can do nothing about it, is a uniquely powerless experience. Because, while you continue to live, a part of you dies.
If a person can empathize with this experience in a genuine way, what matter is it their loss?
If someone did that in front of me I'd probably be compelled to say "Dude, now is not the time for this" or something like that but I can't imagine any person in my group behaving that way.
It’s a tough one, because the grieving mind isn’t particularly rational. You have to be especially careful of things that would otherwise be completely fine.
Much of it comes down to wanting real empathy -regardless of where their understanding of loss comes from. What isn’t desired is any kind of equivocation or comparison. And that is so dependent on how the message is delivered.
And I’ve lost dogs too, that can be absolutely devastating, so intellectually I get it, but the point still stands.
I believe your intentions here are good, but I don't recommend trying to rank various types of grief.
Past a certain threshold, all kinds are both the same and incomparable.
But I don't think it's a valid criticism here because OP actively calls out they trying to find the most appropriate path for empathy ("support in") while deliberately not equating the two experiences of grief (avoiding "complain in").
> And that was just a dog.
Depending on the person and/or situation, losing a dog can rival the pain of any other loss. Especially if the bond between person and dog is reinforced through daily activities.
I guess what I'm saying here is loss is loss. Some losses may be painful longer than others, for sure, but the pain of losing a being you love is universal.
A friend of mine described the pain of this type of loss thusly;
Think of the pain like a ball bouncing around in a box,
with a button at center-bottom which activates pain every
time it is touched by the ball.
At first, the ball is almost the same size as the box
and hits the button constantly.
Over time, the ball shrinks but the size of the box
and the button remain the same. All that changes is
how often the button is hit.
HTHThis is beautifully illustrated by this line from Leonard Cohen's "Everybody knows":
"Everybody got this broken feeling Like their father or their dog just died"
As someone who has lost both a parent and a dog, I can relate completely to this.
At three a dog has had many of the milestones he will have in life. What I miss is the time I and my circle lost with him. Not the experiences he didn’t get to have, or the new people he might have brought into the world, and their experiences. I would have shown him more of the same life in minor variations, not things I wouldn’t even dream of doing myself.
The main point I wanted to share is that loss has a commonality in it always precedes pain and must be dealt with similarly. Comparing its form was never my intent nor do I hold there is any fundamental difference between them.
That's just my opinion though.
In the present, orthodox practitioners of Abrahamic religions, in particular, may stoically overcome such profound grief by attributing it to divine will.
I forget which book I read this in, but the author in their autobiography described their "real man" father as someone who they'd only seen cry three times in his life. When his wife died, he was all stoic about it and didn't show any upset in public. But when his favorite dog died, he broke down crying.
Many people who don't understand how upset one can get over a dog, have never had one. I have a photo of our first family dog and it still makes me upset if I look at it for too long.
I absolutely lost it when a pet goldfish died ~5 years later. This kind of stuff can come up at the weirdest time.
It took a while to realize I wasn’t grieving her. I was jammed in the Denial phase of a previous loss and adding a few more rocks to the pile caused an avalanche. I’m betting that’s what happened with your goldfish.
We are entirely responsible for the health and welfare of domestic dogs, like young children.
I understand this can come off as simplifying too much but I believe it boils down to those reasons in the vast majority of cases. So, there can be exceptions of course but they are a minority.
I don't have children, but if I ever do, I am worried that my experience with this wonderful little cat will turn me into an anxious, unhealthily-overprotective mess when it comes to any children I might have.
The pattern I noticed was the people who had lost a pet were more equipped to deal with the loss of a human. The worst hit people never even had pets. Maybe a coincidence, but I suspect not. I don’t think it hurts any less, but you know better what needs to be done to move through it instead of getting stuck.
(Sorry for your loss)
We had cats when I was a kid, and two of them died while I was in my early/mid teens. They were "mom's cats", and at the time I didn't understand why it affected her so deeply. It made me sad, to be sure (both cats had been around my entire life up to that point), but I didn't get it. Not until I lost my own cat, anyway.
In a strange way, a way that I sometimes feel bad about, losing my cat hit me harder than losing my parents.
> (Sorry for your loss)
Thank you!
And that was just a dog. I can’t even imagine what happens when your child dies, especially if your job or social circle involves them.
The author said he has a therapist, but I wonder if he’s had one the whole time or if he failed to process at the time and is now paying for letting it sink into his bones.