I talked to many social workers during the two and a half years that Michelle was sick. We spent so much time in the hospital between the surgeries, the treatments, etc. that while she was sleeping I would often ask for a various social worker to come to talk to me in the waiting room. My grief was so intense. The knowledge that her cancer was so rare, so aggressive and was not going to be beat. I needed to speak to someone, to cry to someone. To pour my heart and my soul out to someone.
For all of the amazing help that these individuals gave me – and they did – they helped me SO much – nobody ever told me the medical term for what I was experiencing: Anticipatory Grief.
A few months after Michelle passed away I stumbled across this article.
And it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Hey, that’s me! That’s what I had!
It finally made sense.
The grief that I had endured while Michelle was alive was finally explained. Finally justified.