Loss Through The Years: Sheridan’s Story

Fellow therapist and friend Sheridan shares insights from significant losses in life. Being in her 60’s now, Sheridan has gained so much grief wisdom. During our chat, Sheridan remembered her dad’s heart attack, her sister’s battle with ovarian cancer, and her mother’s death after living with Alzheimer’s.

Sheridan’s story reminds me of how grief is unique and the importance of making room for our emotions. There is a magic that happens when we allow grief to be expressed by sharing our stories. If you are currently in the fog of grief, or even if your grief was long ago, Wingate Counseling wants to support your unique grief journey! I’m a believer that we heal and grow when we share our stories!

Death of her father

Sheridan’s dad died unexpectedly from a heart attack when she was thirty-five. At that time, she was living in Tennessee, away from her family in Virginia. Despite the distance, Sheridan and her father were very close. She remembers calling him many times a week to chat about life.

For Sheridan, his death came as a shock! “I can still remember calling dad two days before he died. It was a Sunday afternoon; I was sitting at my kitchen table talking with him like we always did, just catching up.” In the middle of the night, Sheridan got a call that her dad was in the hospital and she needed to come home. This news completely disoriented Sheridan. She remembers calling a friend to help her pack. “I was in shock! It was too much for me to get my suitcase together.” An hour later, her father died. Sheridan then boarded a plane home to face a terrible new reality.

I asked Sheridan what still stands out to her about her dad’s death. All these years later, she remembers the suddenness of his death. The shock of loss overtook her healing process. It hijacked Sheridan’s emotions for over a year, leaving her feeling numb. Then one day, Sheridan remembers falling to her knees in her apartment, screaming and sobbing angry tears, asking why.

Embracing anger was a turning point; Sheridan knew she needed to start talking about grief. When finally ready to talk, Sheridan found that people were awkward about grief. She felt others were dancing around acknowledging her loss for fear of upsetting her. “I was already sad! People weren’t going to make it worse by asking me how I was doing.”

Sheridan affectionately remembers two special friends who supported her grief. These friends gave her freedom to share, space to heal. Finally, she had someone asking about her dad. “We called it holding court. I would go over to their house, sit at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, and tell story after story about dad. My friends would listen, we would laugh, we would cry, and I found so much comfort.”

Death of her sister

Years later, Sheridan’s sister and only sibling, Kim, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Initially, Sheridan thought she knew grief well. In reality, she came to find that grieving a sister was a unique experience entirely. For Sheridan, this was a “long grief”. Grief started at Kim’s diagnosis, years before her death. Not only was this grief long, but it also seemed out of order. “It felt so unfair! You know you’ll lose your parents one day but losing a sister seemed unnatural!”

During Kim’s cancer treatment, Sheridan wanted to be with her sister. However, living seven hundred miles away meant Sheridan had to be realistic about the frequency of visits. “Kim was open about when I should come. If I tried to visit too much, Kim would tell me not to make the trip. I learned to be respectful of her wishes.”

Two months after Kim’s initial surgery to remove a volleyball-sized tumor, doctors discovered a more aggressive expression of cancer. Sheridan shared it was then she realized Kim would never fully recover. She had to manage her expectations, support Kim, and mentally prepare for a long goodbye.

Kim spent years coping with cancer and all the side effects. Sheridan knew that Kim made decisions to stay alive for her sons. She didn’t want her sons to think she’d given up. Sheridan watched as Kim struggled against more bad news and complications. Finally, there was no treatment left, nothing else Kim could do. Kim died in the middle of the night; Sheridan by her side, like she always wanted. For Sheridan, it was a gift to be there, able to say goodbye.

Unlike her father’s death, Sheridan found that people were more comfortable asking about Kim’s cancer. Knowing from her experience, Sheridan was open about her grief which was helpful. “When people asked about Kim, I talked about how I was doing too. I knew talking with others would help me process my pain.”

Death of her mother

A few years later, Sheridan faced her mother’s death after years of living with Alzheimer’s. “I dreaded the day mom wouldn’t remember me,” Sheridan confessed. Thankfully, that day never came. Towards the end of her life, Sheridan, and her husband Brett, moved her mother to a nursing home in Memphis. It was a blessing to have her mom close after so much family loss.

The last month of her mother’s life, Sheridan recounted happy memories of visiting her mom every morning before work. This loss felt sad but more of a “natural order”. “You are supposed to lose your parent when they’re old. It’s never easy to say goodbye, but it was harder to see mom declining.” When her mother died, Sheridan knew her mom was at peace. Her mother’s death brought up old griefs, reminding Sheridan of grief’s complex nature. Emotions in grief are layered, and once again, she needed space to experience this grief. No matter what form her griefs took, Sheridan always found magic in sharing her story of loss, ultimately her story of love.