The Five Stages of Grief

by Mileva Anastasiadou


The five stages of grief
 
 
Alberto pressed the call button to inform Mrs. Jones of my arrival. Despite her  friendly and extroverted character during most of her long life, Mrs. Jones was  unexpectedly worried, as she was not in the mood for visitors on that particular day. This happens to most people I visit. A slight premonition, an intuitive awareness of what is to follow, prevent most people from enjoying my company, which is rather sad in my opinion, since I am the last person whose company they will enjoy anyway, who is destined to help them through the last travel they will ever take, through the winter of their life.
 
1. Denial
The houses I visit are rarely that big. Not because the rich have a different destiny and can avoid death, but because they are not so many as the poor. Alberto, her helping hand, her loyal servant since her beloved husband left this world, some years after their children grew wings and flew away, led me to her door and knocked.
“Did they send you here to tell me the news?” she asked, looking through the window that stood  above her bed,  avoiding eye contact. I was warned that the old lady's vision was not as good as it used be, so I had expected the rather vague look on her face.
“This is true, Mrs. Jones.”
“They shouldn't have bothered. I already know.”
“Do you, Mrs. Jones?” Her reply caught me by surprise; seldom do I see people that well prepared for the journey that awaits them.
“I cannot believe this is really happening though.”
“I am here to help you deal with the news.” This is my role, my very reason of existence. To tell the truth I am pretty excited every single time I hear this line, as I get even more eager to fulfill my duty. In this case too, her response put everything back into place and extinguished my anguish.
“This is not possible” she cried, looking finally my way.
“I am afraid it is, Mrs.Jones” I said as calmly as I could. The secret is to stay calm and determined, but also soft and gentle at the same time. To contain the emotion that is thrown your way and seem able to absorb it, like a sponge would absorb spilled water, without falling apart.
 
2. Anger
“Are you aware of the implications?” she shouted my way, as I walked slowly towards her side.
“I am, Mrs. Jones, I certainly am.” People usually breakdown at this point, when the first shock subsides and are forced to accept the truth; they get agitated and uncontrollable. Some people see visions, that doctors try to eradicate with medication, which is not very helpful at all, considering the fact that I, too, am occasionally obliged to visit dying patients as a vision, when they are not alone in a room, in order not to terrify other healthy individuals whose time has not come yet.
“I hate the fact that I am too sick to move” she said angrily. It is really surprising how strong dying people become on their last moments, though. It is like a hidden force within them is suddenly discovered, not in an emotional level, but on a purely physical one. People that are unable to move, or even breathe, can hold your hand so firmly, that you cannot let go. They can even hit you, if they hallucinate on this phase, trying to get away from the inevitable fate.
“This is my fault. This is all my fault.”
“There is no need to blame yourself, Mrs. Jones.”
Mrs. Jones was giving her last battle. Even though I was certain she could not get away, I kept on holding her tight, until she finally calmed down.
 
3. Bargaining
“If only I could turn back time, I would be much more careful” said Mrs.Jones, rearranging the pillows on her bed, as if she tried to bring order back into her life, to gain back some of the lost control.
“I have to confess it is a bit too late for that now, Mrs. Jones.”
“Don't be silly. I know it is too late” she said smiling. I remained silent, as I expected her to go on with the negotiations. People rarely give up this easy. I was right obviously.
“There must be a way I cannot think of at the moment, a way to get back what I lost. Are you capable of trying? I am sure you must be a very capable young man, if you chose to come here and be the one to announce me the terrible news. And very brave I must add.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jones, but there is absolutely nothing I can do.”
People get very inventive at this point. They even try to bribe me, every once in a while. They do not understand that things do not work out like this on the other side. Their money is completely worthless there.
 
4. Depression
“I cannot stand the situation, though. This is far beyond my control.” She cried like a baby at this stage, which was good because it meant that we were moving on. That was the time to go beside her for the second time. People need embracing when angry, as well as when they are depressed. For different reasons obviously.
“It is a hopeless situation” she whispered, as I held her.
“You never know. Better times may await you out there.” I never know the future of the souls I take along with me. I never know if heaven or hell will be  their new home. If I did, I might not be as kind as I should, as I may not be made to have feeling as humans do, but I am aware of justice and its laws. And all people deserve some comfort, during their final hours, however badly or indecently they chose to live. Thereby, my job is to make the passing easier and inspire hope.
“You cannot fool me. My best days are over. They have been over for a long time now” she said as I wiped the tears from her eyes. But the tears kept on coming, as they always do. Until, one magical moment, that they stop.
 
5. Acceptance
“Well, I admit you must be right. You were right all along.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jones” I said humbly.
“These things happen all the time.”
“This is absolutely correct.”
“The rich get richer, the poor get poorer. That is the correct way though. The world is getting upside down these days.”
“Things do not always happen the way we expect them to.” This is really a serious problem with rich people. They are used to getting away with anything during their living years, so deep down inside, without even consciously realizing it, they believe they can escape death as well. 
“I am quite old as you may have noticed.”
“You look pretty well, considering you age.” An innocent compliment is always welcome throughout the mourning process. Years of experience with dying people have led me to understand this. They never taught me this when I was trained, but I took the initiative at some point  and I have seen it working.
“Black Monday they called it. I have never lost that amount of money in such a short time though. It is awfully unbelievable, that a rich person will get so much poorer in just a few hours. It is not fair. I thought life was fair, you know?”
“You did?” I asked, trying to keep a soft and polite tone. Rich people's priorities never cease to amaze me.
“Of course I did. I never thought that such a horrible thing would happen to me. Life can still save some surprises for old age, I guess.”
“You are right, Mrs. Jones.”
“You always have to move on, you know?” Even in the stage of acceptance, people do not usually make the suggestion themselves. They wait for me to ask them.
“If you are ready, I am” I said softly.
“Ready for what?”
“For our trip of course.”
“Where are we going?”
“Where all souls go, when they leave their mortal body.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I am annoyed when people use the “hell” word, moments before they die. It seems to me as if they throw away the final opportunity to claim a place in heaven, as if they are willing to give away their last chance to be properly treated in the next world.
“Please, Mrs. Jones, it is not right to use such words, during your last moments on this planet.”
“What? Do you really intend to kill me? This day is getting worse minute by minute.” She tried to call Alberto, but was too weak to press the button.
 
I suddenly came to realize that Mrs. Jones had not understood anything we had been talking about. To be more precise, it might have been me who was out of subject all along, as the subject was her lost money. The thought that she might be regressing into a previous stage of grief, into bargaining, so that she could fool me into giving her some more time, crossed my mind for a while, but I quickly rejected it. I soon came to accept the fact that all my efforts were nothing but a big waste. I was not angry or anything like that, since I am not susceptible to human conditions, such as emotions, but I certainly reminded myself to be more direct next time.
We went through this, one more time. Strangely enough, the second time was easier. One simple explanation could be that she valued her wealth more than her own life, but people who have recently been mourning, go either faster through all the stages again, or at an extremely slow pace. I was lucky though, as our time was limited. Unfortunately, people do not have the luxury or postponing death for long, when the time has come.
Finally, she was almost ready. She asked some time alone with Alberto to say goodbye. I would be too cruel not to give in, after the double mourning process I caused her to go through in a such a short time and I am surely not as cruel as most people consider me to be. Breaking unimportant rules every once in a while is permitted anyway.
“I will meet you outside Mrs. Jones.”
 
This is always the worst part of my mission. I could almost feel his pain but was not allowed to interact more. I am the angel of death, not as evil or bad as they present me in books and films, probably a bit too naive to ever understand human nature, with the distinct role – though - of preparing the dying ones for their final journey to the other side. Even if I was allowed to intervene, despite my training in mourning and grief, I would stand completely helpless in front of  the pain of the loved ones that are left behind. Proper words of consolation do not exist in these cases; even I, an emotionless creature, can understand that.  Alberto is about to travel on a similar road, go through the five stages of loss, but this is a journey that he has to take without my help, at his very own pace. The only comforting thought is that friends and family will stand by him, to contain and embrace his feelings and overwhelming emotions, preparing for the same journey themselves when the time comes; humans are entitled  to bonding, a privilege or a curse depending on the circumstances. Sometimes, not very often I must confess, I envy them for that. I really do. 

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