If you have been a caregiver to your spouse, a parent, friend, for any length of time and now that person has died, you may expect:

• To feel that part of you is lost or gone because it is. Caring requires love and deep unique bonding — quite different from the bonding you already had prior to the season of caregiving. In the separation, in your own way, you are wounded. You are not damaged, you are wounded. Know the difference.
• To feel you are rattling in a cage of caring habits and not quite sure of what to do or where to be. You feel pulled between responsibilities that no longer exist and feel irresponsible for not being present where you once were. In short, you don’t know where to be or what to do.
• To experience some guilt about the way things turned out, developed or did not develop. You flood with questions: was there more you could have done to ease pain, prolong life, usher healing? Was something crucial missed, forgotten?
• To feel guilty – at least momentarily – if you have fun.

Take heart. Like a child, who, arms outstretched, turns and turns until dizzy, falls to the ground, then rises to walk and appears to have had too much to drink, in the act of walking, balance and order gradually returns.

You will reorient after your double loss: a loved one and an integral role and find your feet.