ORIGINALLY POSTED 03/31/10
Little did I know when I originally posted this that my father's grief and depression were about to really start getting worse... to the eventual point of suicide - and me finding him. But that will be a post for another time...
The world of death investigation can be
very interesting and yet so heartbreaking. Ironically what I get asked the most
is how do I deal with all of the blood, guts, other body fluids, decomposition,
maggots and all their little insect friends - and I always reply the same...
"That's the easy part"... it's the GRIEF. The all consuming grief
that comes with the job. That's the part they don't glam on tv. As death
investigators we get called weird, gross, strange and an host of other things
because we keep a mental distance from what we do and therefore seem unaffected
by it. But, in reality, we mentally consume it all. We KNOW we are working on a
person; someone's loved one, someone who had a life and probably did some great
things or maybe someone who died tragically and never had a chance. That
knowledge reminds us that each day we wake up is a gift, and each day our loved
ones wake up is an even bigger gift.
I was an autopsy tech before becoming an investigator. I've done autopsies. On kids. As a mother I can't put into words what it does to the mind to have literally cut up a kid. It's does something to the heart and mind that can never be erased or fixed. Some days I work so hard to mentally distance myself from the job that I wonder if I can come back enough to communicate properly with the "normal" world.
Knocking on doors to announce to someone their loved one is never coming home is an awful task. Because they are instantly grieved and the line between being compassionate and keeping a mental distance = that line is very blurred because EACH time my own grief comes to mind. In the last 6 years I've lost my mother, my grandmother, my godmother and several other friends and family and when I am comforting and speaking with someone who's grieving - grieving because I have just told them the bad news, then I feel my own grief. And sometimes it is persistent. Last night I went to the gym, checked my email and went to bed. It all seemed so simple and yet my mind decided to relive my mother's death and have an all night memorial service for all those I've lost in the last 10 years. All night, even after waking up, shaking it off and going back to sleep, I resumed the memorial. In a way it was nice to remember good times with these loved ones, but that hurts even more when I wake up. And so today, I vent this out, looking for relief because in a few short hours I'll be back on the job... adding to the grief.
I was an autopsy tech before becoming an investigator. I've done autopsies. On kids. As a mother I can't put into words what it does to the mind to have literally cut up a kid. It's does something to the heart and mind that can never be erased or fixed. Some days I work so hard to mentally distance myself from the job that I wonder if I can come back enough to communicate properly with the "normal" world.
Knocking on doors to announce to someone their loved one is never coming home is an awful task. Because they are instantly grieved and the line between being compassionate and keeping a mental distance = that line is very blurred because EACH time my own grief comes to mind. In the last 6 years I've lost my mother, my grandmother, my godmother and several other friends and family and when I am comforting and speaking with someone who's grieving - grieving because I have just told them the bad news, then I feel my own grief. And sometimes it is persistent. Last night I went to the gym, checked my email and went to bed. It all seemed so simple and yet my mind decided to relive my mother's death and have an all night memorial service for all those I've lost in the last 10 years. All night, even after waking up, shaking it off and going back to sleep, I resumed the memorial. In a way it was nice to remember good times with these loved ones, but that hurts even more when I wake up. And so today, I vent this out, looking for relief because in a few short hours I'll be back on the job... adding to the grief.
