In late December, my father-in-law Gerald passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer’s disease.
I’m grateful we were able to see him on Christmas Eve, and say goodbye to him in a special and meaningful way. We spent the afternoon outside just laughing and holding his hand. Remember how warm it was? My girls gave him a blanket, a neck pillow, and some things he could squeeze. Gerald could barely keep his eyes open, but he knew we were there loving on him. He even managed a smile as we told him he was loved.
It was time. He knew it, and we knew it. My wife Annie had been helping her mother Cheryl day in and day out for months, not knowing what the future would hold or how long this could possibly go on. Alzheimer’s is a cruel and mysterious diagnosis. While we are sad, it’s a blessing that he was released from the scary grip of dementia and confusion. Life goes on I suppose, and in time Cheryl can get back to the things that bring her joy — activities like sewing, swimming, dining out with friends, traveling, and more. I have no doubt that it will be hard considering she was married for more than 58 years.
I think it’s important to remember that when someone is grieving, they should be allowed to mourn in their own way and in their own time. Many times, family and friends subconsciously or otherwise make it about themselves instead of the person who is navigating their own grief.
When we had the funeral, a graveside burial in Jackson, Tennessee, I performed three songs — “Amazing Grace,” “You Raise Me Up,” and “Be Not Afraid.” I practiced each song every day for two weeks, and even though I was confident in my playing, I still choked up and had to dig deep to get through it. I loved how every family member had a part to play at the funeral. My wife read a poem, and her brother Rob handled the eulogy. The grandchildren all placed flowers on the casket. What I will remember most is my daughter Ella writing a book of poems about loss and grief for her Grandma Cheryl. Over Christmas she was given a book-binding set, and she used it to create a beautiful set of prose. One of the poems is simply called “Grief.”
"Grief is a feeling of sadness most people say, but actually it does not have to be that way. Grief is mostly used when someone you love passes away, but sometimes you won’t feel sad, you will smile at a memory of the person you love. Sometimes you will feel sad and empty and alone. You may feel confused, unsure like a dream that you can’t escape from, and grief might never fully melt away, but you will feel a different feeling of grief every day."
Wise words from a 10-year-old girl, if you ask me. Ella’s beautiful words moved her grandmother and her family in a big way, and I’m grateful she took pen to paper to mark down how the death of her Granddaddy Gerald made her feel — a lesson in grief I will always cherish.
Funerals are weird. Grief is weird. Life is weird. But we all have to go through it in our own ways and should give the loved ones around us the space they need to process the change in their own ways and their own time.
Rest in peace Gerald Wooley.
Jeff Hulett is a freelance writer, musician, and PR consultant in Memphis. He lives in the Vollintine Evergreen neighborhood with his wife Annie, two girls Ella and Beatrice, and dog Chalupa.