T

he Thai year of mourning culminated in majestic cremation and enshrinement ceremonies recently. While the late King Bhumibol will always be missed by his people, the country can now return to joyous celebrations.

When I was in Bangkok for a workshop after the king died on Oct. 13 last year, the whole country was in black and white — from drapings on fences to people on the streets. Billboards and banners posted the late king’s serene youthful photo.

Tens of thousands flocked from across the nation to pay their last respects. Volunteers provided free food and drinks. Our host prepared black ribbons for all the workshop participants.

The Thai man seated next to me on the airplane tearfully spoke of the divine nature of their beloved regal father figure who reigned for 70 years.

Collective mourning provides an opportunity for the bereaved to express and share their grief. In December that year social media profile pictures of students, staff, families and alumni of Canisius College Jakarta turned black.

A year 11 student, Petrus Kanisius Aldo Varian Prawira (Aldo) had died after a car threw him off the motorcycle that he and his brother were riding on their way to school.

His father, wearing the “Keep strong, little brother” shirt made by the college soccer club, expressed how he was touched by mourners who overflowed into the parking lot of the funeral home and their generosity that paid for the 10-day ICU stay and multiple operations in the prior attempt to save his son’s life. The overwhelming communal support gave meaning to the loss.

Collective mourning is not all black and white. Thailand’s lèse-majesté law makes it a criminal offense not to be in favor of the monarch, including for what is perceived to be inadequate mourning behavior. Students have had their colorful uniforms removed, and workers can be punished for chosing the wrong color.

Shared sadness may make it seem inappropriate to experience and express positive experiences, which are necessary to facilitate getting on with life. People may feel guilty and isolated, and even be admonished if, for example, they feel compassionate toward a loved one’s death from prolonged illness, relief for the end of a difficult relationship, or gratitude for a life well-lived.

Meanwhile some bereaved individuals may have to deal with “disenfranchised grief,” where conditions inhibit public mourning. Families who lost loved ones to stigmatizing diseases, suicide, capital punishment or mass vigilante behavior (such as those lynched for suspected stealing), may find it harder to connect their sorrow with a different sentiment from the community at large.

Mothers who mourn unborn children, families with missing loved ones, and those who lost partners in non-socially sanctioned relationships may feel very isolated in their grief. People can also feel deep grief for pets or other attachments, which may not receive the same consideration and condolences.

Grief is a complex and individualized process. The closeness and nature of the relationship, the circumstances of the death, available social support, life changes that ensue and personal factors are among some aspects that influence how persons cope. The death of a young person is especially painful to come to terms with, as it robs one’s dreams — of graduations, weddings, grandchildren and expectations that the young will continue the line.

Bereavement may be experienced as a permanent void. Research by the professor Beverley Raphael describes how widows experience their husband’s death like a loss of a part of themselves. Some may even suffer from prolonged grief, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, or other mental health disorders.

Speaking to a psychologist, psychiatrist, counselor, pastoral care/religious counselor or social worker may help people through the process. Yet many may be reluctant to seek help. Some of my patients at Ciputra World describe choosing the mall’s clinic to overcome feeling ashamed to seek mental health care elsewhere.

The psychiatrist Elizabeth Kübler-Ross theorizes that people go through five stages of grief, from denial, anger, bargaining, despair, to final acceptance. Research shows, however, that grief is more complicated than that, and rather than denial, it is more disbelief that people experience; rather than despair, it is more a sense of yearning. All of these emotions can come and go and intertwine at any given moment.

Sometimes people may feel “nothing” and other times break down in a flood of emotions. One widow told me she has good and bad days, as she balances mourning with rebuilding her life. Research in positive psychology has also found that while situations like these are overwhelmingly sad, people can also experience positive emotions. Some may even experience post-traumatic growth.

With time, as new positive life experiences are collected, the intensity and frequency of moments of grief usually subside, except in the face of situations, people or objects that bring back memories.

On Nov. 2 every year, Catholics dedicate All soul’s day to commemorate the deceased. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and other special events can be especially difficult, but the rest of the time may feel awkwardly “normal.”

My doctoral research on people who faced disasters in Australia and Indonesia shows how people cope with loss by finding and creating meaning in many ways. The Thais may find meaning in the their late king’s long life and legacy. An Acehnese who lost his children in the tsunami built a library in his children’s name.

A psychologist friend of mine whose 13-year old daughter died in bed next to her believes the child was never hers to begin with, placed under her care by God. Mourners received gifts of prayer beads and butterfly magnets, symbolizing the girl’s change into a spiritual state.

The family quotes Rabidranath Tagore’s story of the butterfly’s short but beautifully “full” life. Others speak of meaning in the natural cycle of life. While such efforts may help make sense of adversity, some memories will remain bittersweet. “Sorrow and longing are now a member of the family,” said the bereaved mother.

While the Thais can now make room for their new king and enjoy celebrations with colorful clothes, there is no clear timeframe when personal mourning ends. It might help to savor the life and loved ones that remain. Ironically, death is what makes life precious.

In memory of Theresia Hening Swasti Sinarestri.
___________________________

The writer is a lecturer at the Faculty of Medicine at the Christian Krida Wacana University (UKRIDA), a psychiatrist at Ciputra Medical Center, Jakarta, and a licensed educator for personal growth.