Facing your demons
They say that the only way to get past grief is to go through it. Helen Keller put it succinctly: “The only way to get to the other side is through the door.”
Wendy and her husband John loved to travel. One of their favourite destinations had been a resort in Antigua where they spent many vacations. It was their paradise, with a lovely beach and great hospitality over many delightful winter weeks. Wendy described it as her “happy place”.
That changed in 2008 when, while they were staying at the resort, John fell ill and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and admitted to the local hospital. Wendy spent her days there with him returning to the resort for her evening meal and rest, and when their week came to an end, John was still too unwell to travel home. The resort management immediately extended Wendy’s stay, and were extremely kind and supportive to her until she was finally, some weeks later, able to get her husband back home.
Sadly the tumour was not able to be treated and John died six months later. It was a devastating loss to Wendy; she attended one of our support programmes in the months that followed his death.
Fast forward eight years. Wendy was on a Caribbean cruise with a number of our support group members this past January. One port of call was Antigua, to which she has never returned since John’s death. In a conversation before we left, she told me she planned to stay on board the ship that day and not even set foot on the island; the memories of that last visit were just so painful.
I set off that morning to explore the island, returning around noon. By ‘divine coincidence’ I bumped into Wendy. She said she had made a big decision that morning: to visit the resort again. She and her roommate were going there. I asked if she would like me to go with them, and she said she would.
Wendy had to talk her way into the premises, explaining the reason she was there, and the management agreed to let us in.
As they escorted us through the property I could see Wendy was emotional, but she handled it like the trooper she is. She wanted to see the dining room where they had eaten together, and the villa overlooking the ocean where they had stayed.
There were tears when she came to their beloved beach. Our escort was lovely, allowing her all the time she needed. I offered to take photos of her, and could see that Wendy was falling in love with the place all over again. The painful memories were being replaced by memories of the good times.
Just when we returned to the main reception to leave, a lady rushed out and said: “Wendy!” It was one of the staff she had known over the years, who had been so good to her in 2008. There was a tearful reunion which touched her – and me – deeply.
Never have I felt such a sense of privilege, being allowed to witness that afternoon which is best described as a ritual of reconciliation. Wendy was haunted by memories of those days, but something said to her that morning that she had to face those demons.
It was difficult and courageous, and tears were shed, but they were healing tears. She said afterwards: “Finally, I think I have put it to rest.” It wasn’t the place that haunted her, but what had happened there.
She needed to go back to discover that it was (and still is) a wonderful place. That although what had happened on their last visit had been difficult and painful, being there again helped her remember happy memories of the place and the times they spent together.
Do “demons” stop you from going somewhere, dealing with something, or facing someone? Are you filtering today’s experiences through yesterday’s events, interpreting what could be positive as negative?
By facing her fears and hurt, Wendy transformed her way of thinking, and truly put that traumatic experience behind her. We cannot allow difficult memories of death to overwhelm the positive and happy things that formed the good memories of the person’s life.
Tags: aftercare, Antigua, Bill Webster, Dr Bill, grief, Wendy