Take time to notice what's happening 'behind the scenes'

Recently I attended a great outdoor concert of my favorite band, The Lennys, in a small local venue near here. It was a mild fall day at Diamond Jim's, an outside restaurant in East Dundee. I got there about 1:45 and listened until 4 p.m. when they closed. I was fortunate enough to sit with their ops manager, Kathy, very close to the stage.

The Lennys play wonderful and fun music. They even played “Wipe Out,” an old rock ‘n' roll drums and guitar dance song from about 1960! Amazing. They played music ranging from the 1960s to the 2000s.

Well, it was perfect weather and a 100% happy afternoon. After the concert, I stayed and ordered supper. While I was eating, the band was breaking down, packing their instruments and stage equipment — a lot of equipment. It took them an hour to pack and put it all in vans. A big job.

I thought, well, you usually don't know or see what happens “behind the scenes.” And I imagine it took them another hour to unload and set it up before the concert, too. All behind the scenes, so to speak.

This got me thinking about grief and grieving because much of grief is also “behind the scenes” in our culture.

Like the concert, there is definitely a before and after “behind the scenes” with grieving. Before is caregiving with long-term illness or when a health crisis happens. And after is after; people are often dealing with grief in silence. They don't talk about it — not even to friends and family, especially after the death and sometimes as the months and years move along. They are coping and managing on their own.

On their own, even before and after nice holidays and family events. On their own because their beloved partner, spouse, child, friend is not there anymore. The bereaved know no one wants to talk about it, so they cope on their own. Often they don't even mention it. They don't want to ruin the fun of a holiday or gathering.

Once, one of our sons even said to me, “You only tell the good things.” Well, I don't think that's true in this column. But it's probably true when I email updates to the family, letting them know I'm fine and doing OK. Which I am of course, most of the time. I just don't write on a sad day.

So it is. In family sociology there is a concept called normalization. The idea is there are things in a family that are concealed, or not mentioned, or even ignored and hidden. A family often operates internally to conceal or explain away negative or worrisome behavior of a family member.

They say, “Oh, Uncle Sam, is just a little odd” and ignore his dysfunctional behavior. Within the family they “normalize” the behavior and ignore it.

I think concealing grief is a little like that. Of course, there's not anything dysfunctional or odd about grief, but it's often concealed — hidden as if one is “doing well” or is “doing OK.” People actually say these phrases about a bereaved friend or relative. I think they just don't know what's going on “behind the scene.”

If your friend or relative is getting older and can't really do all the things they used to, they may be concealing that, too. Maybe it's time for the next generation to take over the upcoming holidays — such as roasting the Thanksgiving turkey or hosting other winter holiday dinners. Many people don't like to admit they are not “up to doing that anymore.”

It's true age is “a state of mind,” but the physical part may be getting difficult!

The point is: Normalization/concealing behavior is yet another aspect of grief that is worth knowing about. It will help you better support others as they struggle alone “behind the scenes.” Or this can even help you understand your own feelings.

I think the more we know about the complexity of grief, the better off we all will be. Remember, this is not just a matter of the first few months. Grief can last in some form for years, or even forever.

People need all the support they can get. Even if they don't talk about it and appear “OK.”

• Susan Anderson-Khleif of Sleepy Hollow has a doctorate in family sociology from Harvard, taught at Wellesley College and is a retired Motorola executive. Contact her at sakhleif@comcast.net or see her blog longtermgrief.tumblr.com. See previous columns at www.dailyherald.com/topics/Anderson-Kleif-Susan.