A reader writes: I am married and the mother of three children. I have been told by my doctors that I have a rare and terminal illness. My husband and children love me and need me, and they do not know that I am dying because I cannot tell them.
How can I tell the ones who count on me that I won’t be here for them? How can I tell them that I brought them into the world with love and tears, and now I’m leaving?
My husband and children don’t know. I won’t let them know.
Saying that I was experiencing “anticipatory grief” would not have come close to capturing all the nuances and struggles, unique for me, as it is for everyone. ~ Donna S. Davenport
A colleague writes: I have a request to consult tomorrow with counseling staff at a high school regarding a staff member just diagnosed with a stage four brain tumor. Looking through your rich web site I'm saying to myself, "Articles, and books and messages, oh, my." Can you help me go to materials on anticipatory grieving, or feeling our own mortality/vulnerability, or helping someone cope with a terminal illness?? You may be able to help me sort through so I can go straight to the meat this busy day before I must show up ready to help! Many thanks if you can help at this last moment.
[Reviewed and updated February 25, 2024]
The mental mist of ambiguity and the fog of ambivalence hamper human existence. ~ Kilroy J. Oldster
A reader writes: I am beside myself. I want to be OK with this because my wife had lung cancer and she isn't sick anymore. She no longer requires the numerous medications that were for everything from pain to nausea. I should be glad for her but I miss her. I thought I had said everything I needed to say but now I feel as though I have more to say.
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