Ambiguous Grief: grieving someone who is still alive (part 2)

Way back we wrote an article on ‘ambiguous grief’ aka grieving someone who is still alive. To keep it to reasonable internet reading length, we really only told half the story. If you know anything about Pauline Boss, the ambiguous grief guru, you know she talks about two (and really more like two and a half) types of ambiguous grief. One is what we covered last time – grieving someone who is physically still in your life, but who is ‘psychologically absent’. This means they are no longer the person they used to be (think dementia, addiction, traumatic brain injury, etc) If you are looking for more on that, you can check out that first post here. But Pauline Boss talks about a second, equally as significant, type of ambiguous loss – grieving someone who is physically absent. 

From grieving break-ups and divorces to runaways, incarceration, immigration, foster care, estrangements, military deployments, adoption, and others. The list of these types of losses is long, so it is no surprise we get questions about them all the time. Pauline Boss describes them saying they occur when someone is ‘physically absent but psychologically present’. By psychologically present she means that the person left to grieve is thinking about the absent person all the time. They are worried, they are distracted, devastated, sad, and stressed, and on and on.  

These losses are open-ended, and that is in large part what Boss explores. The nature of these losses is that they create a unique stress response because of the uncertainty – a person is “gone, but not for sure”. It is often unclear if or when the person will return, leaving those grieving confused and sometimes consumed by the loss. The safety of the missing person is frequently unknown. This leaves the grieving person left fluctuating between moments of hope and moments of feeling completely hopeless. 

This ongoing uncertainty, according to Boss’s research of over forty years, shows that this can “prevent resolution of the loss, and freezes the grief process, paralyzing couple and family functioning”. As with all grief, there are no universals and there are certainly many, many cases when this doesn’t occur. But the risks are increased because it becomes harder to use some of the coping strategies that work in grieving death-related losses. People often struggle to adapt or reconstruct their identity. They struggle to find meaning when circumstances or facts are unknown. 

This can be complicated further by the fact that society doesn’t have accepted norms or rituals around these losses. People don’t often don’t know how to acknowledge grief when someone has died, and they certainly don’t know how to acknowledge and support it in the cases of adoption or incarceration or almost anything else on the list. The uncertainty, according to the research of Boss and her colleagues, increases the likelihood for hypervigelence (when your senses are oversensitive), anxiety, anxious attachment (when you are overly clingy and attached to a person, because you worry they will disappear), and symptoms of depression. If you’ve been this, it might sound familiar – every time the phone rings you startle, thinking on some level it could be news about your loved one. You can’t focus because you are fixated on their safety. You extend your worries to other’s you are attached to and to yourself. You obsessively feel like you can or should be doing more or doing something differently, or you obsessively think they should be doing more or doing something different.

And to boot, sometimes this type of ambiguous loss is stacked on other types of ambiguous losses. Maybe someone has physically disappeared from your life because they couldn’t handle your grief after a death. Now you are left grieving both. Maybe someone with an addiction disappears for days or weeks on end, and then they do show up they are ‘psychologically absent’, leaving you managing both types of ambiguous loss. 

I hear you screaming, “Yes! This is me! I don’t need you to explain it, I need you to tell me what to do about it!”

I know, I know. The good news is, Pauline Boss has some concrete, evidence-informed guidelines. The bad news: there are no quick or easy fixes. Though she creates a nice little checklist of six tasks that can help in building resiliency, they are each an ongoing process and flexible, depending on your needs and the situation. 

She suggests those dealing with an ambiguous loss should:

  • Finding Meaning
  • Adjusting Mastery
  • Reconstructing Identity
  • Normalizing Ambivalence
  • Revising Attachment
  • Discovering New Hope

Easy enough, right? Hmmm . . . . maybe not so easy.

First, let’s consider what the goals are here. Boss tells us the unique challenge of this particular loss is that it is uncertainty that is ongoing and a lack of closure. Therefore, she says the goals of the above is to help people better learn to live with that uncertainty, rather than trying to resolve the situation. Since there is no clarity or solution, you have to learn to cope with that reality. Each of her six guidelines help with that. 

If you want to check these out in depth, check out Boss’s recent book Loss, Trauma, and Resilience: Therapeutic Work With Ambiguous Loss”. For now I just want to mention a couple of highlights. 

First, Boss things we can increase the flexibility of our thinking to help us cope with uncertainty when we learn to live with “two truths”. There are countless instances where she says we think we need to either be one thing or another – hopeful or hopeless, optimistic or pessimistic. There are times where we limit what our identity looks like by believing it must be all or nothing. Instead, Boss says that living with ambiguous loss means finding more flexibility. For instance, one might consider thoughts like:

John is both missing and still part of our family. 

I believe Jim is dead and I am hopeful Jim is not dead. 

I both a wife and no longer a wife. 

I both want certainty and don’t want Jen to be dead. 

Boss further tells us that many things that will help us are relational interventions. This might mean considering our identity now. Who am I now? Who is my family now? What are our roles? Is my identity more fluid that I once knew? What does it mean to be a good mother now compared to in the past? Looking at identity roles can help in finding ways to cope with the present, rather than being fixed in an identity that worked only in the past. 

She encourages us to reconsider mastery, suggesting that we often want answers and clarity, but it serves us to remember that sometimes there are no answers. Hard as it is to sit with, the world isn’t always fair and just, suffering is universal, and the temptation to blame (others and ourselves) to that we can create a sense of certainty is often inaccurate and doesn’t help us cope. Instead, she advocates using techniques to tolerate these realities of the world by focusing on taking care of oneself – yoga, meditation, and whatever self-care helps you just be. 

Boss suggests we also get real about our emotions. She thinks we need to admit the pressure we feel to ‘get over’ things and acknowledge that there are some things we never get over, we just learn to live with them. She encourages us to learn the difference between emotions and behaviors. She gives us permission to feel whatever we feel without judgment while becoming aware that we have control to make sure those feelings don’t turn in to actions or behaviors. Even though I might think no one understands what I am going through, I still have the control to reach out to others anyway to avoid isolation and find support I never would have predicted. 

Finally, she encourages us seeking ways we can both hold on and let go. She allows a space for grieving the ongoing and uncertain loss, while also making space for new attachments and hopes, being open and communicative about both. She reminds us that we can redefine hope, meaning we can become more comfortable and balanced in our ambiguity. This is no easy feat, but redefining our concepts of fairness and justice, finding space to laugh as the absurdities of the situation, and embrace hope where we can find it.

It all sounds so simple in a nice little list, when in reality is is long and complex and you may find a counselor is the best thing to help you through some of her suggestions. Alternately, some of this might already resonate and you might be thinking about where you can implement some of these ideas. Wherever you are, leave us a comment to let us know your thoughts about this type of ambiguous grief and how to cope. 

As always, subscribe to get all of our posts right to your inbox!

April 11, 2019

16 responses on "Ambiguous Grief: grieving someone who is still alive (part 2)"

  1. I have lived with estrangement from my married youngest son( I have 2 sons) for almost 10 years. The grief is real and deep. My marriage with their father ended after much abuse when they were in middle school. We 3 were inseparable and best of friends during their entire time at home. All their friends stayed at my house during my single years and I loved every moment because I was a “cool mom”. If the truth be known, I loved that my son’s were close enough to me, to feel free to invite their friends over all the time. Plus….I knew what was being discussed between them all and was a part of their growing up.
    My immediate family has always been a tightly knit family and my boys grew up surrounded by cousins and making memories at the “homeplace” . My father was my youngest sons idle, and once he got his drivers licence, he was prone to hit the road to go see his Papa.
    I eventually married again to a wonderful man who adored my boys and adored our relationship, allowing us the freedom to continue our “threesome” from time to time, going on mini trips together.
    I mention all the above to help paint the picture of a mother and her 2 sons incredible and -envied by many -relationship.
    My eldest left for college and I never would have dreamed that a mother and son could get closer, but my youngest and I were inseparable. I had a convertible and when we were free, rode around with the top down singing old rock songs at the top of our lungs, acting silly but was in pure heaven.
    Then…he left for college….and met a girl…a beautiful and smart girl…(daddy always said to say something good about everyone)..and everything changed.
    Long story short. ..She is a super possessive person.. She has convinced him and poisoned him to believe that he had a horrible childhood. (My oldest married a gal that embraced our relationship…the youngest wife was jealous and felt threatened by it)
    He stopped calling me years ago except on birthdays and mothers day. Now that he has 3 girls (whom I only get to see except for kindergarten programs and a very rare 2 hour limit visit with my son and DIL in the same room), They are the ones who call me on those days. I even get a mother’s day card from them (the grand daughters). They live only an hour away and I stopped begging to see them about a year ago because everytime i would text him to ask.. It would take at least a week or two for him to reply with a ” sorry..been slammed at work..let me check our schedule”, then it would take another week or so to get an official 2 hour visitation pass. I just stopped asking because my died a little everytime that happened.
    My dad died a year and a half ago. I called him and mom every day at least once…but the last 3-4 years of his life, he would wind up crying at some point during my call..wanting to know what he did to hurt my sons feelings to drive him away. Talk about HEARTACHE. (My parents would die if they ever had an inkling of an idea they had hurt someone. Godly people who love unconditifinally…)
    He died in his sleep at home..and yes..my youngest came immediately to the homeplace as did my entire family. He stayed a few hours..and came to funeral 2 days later ,as did his wife and the 3 girls. But..what broke my heart was when the 2 oldest grand daughters came to me prior to the service , hugged me and after prompting from their mother to tell me “something special”, they said like little robots..”We are sorry for your loss”.
    I screamed inside.I wanted to tell them it was YOUR loss too…but they will never know that…because their parents never took them to hang out and know their great grand parents. WHEN they would show up at Thanksgiving or Christmas, it is brief and chaotic …leaving their little cousins standing speechless when they leave..not understanding why .
    It’s a domino effect…it’s not just me that suffers. My dad did…and my mom who is losing her mind day by day due to Alzheimers…His older brother with whom he shared a room with all Their lives and who were inseparable.Their aunts and uncles and cousins who now have children and don’t know each other except by name. ( One Christmas, we were all sitting around talking about how much we missed my son. One cousin stated…”it’s like he died”.
    Estrangement is a death…a cruel and unexplained death. My dad’s passing mades sense. He was 82 years old and in bad health but had lived a glorious life.
    This death by estrangement makes NO sense whatsoever.
    I live with grief every single day and low self esteem and deep depression. I can relate to the article when it talked about searching for self identity. I struggle deeply with that every day as well….because all my dreams of being a grandmother to all my grandkids (I do have 2 from my eldest who I enjoy the typical grandparent joys) has been shattered. I bought a mega set of holiday dishes several years ago anticipating holiday dinners with both boys and their families.. And enough place settings for several grandchildren. Those dishes are collecting dust.
    I wonder every morning…who am I? I used to be a great mother….now I am a grandmother to 2 beautiful girls, but I want to be the same to my other 3. Every memory I make with the 2 (from my eldest) is mixed with sadness because I want the same with the other 3.
    Sorry this is long…but the grief from crying over a living person is gut wrenching , confusing to no end and leaves me in an abyss of despair.
    I never, ever, ever saw this coming.

    • Lynn,
      I wear your shoes, the exact ones, every day. Your post really stayed with me….finally someone who truly understands. The grief and sadness and the depression are like a heavy weighted blanket. And I feel like I’m grieving in silence. Nobody understands that this IS a death of sorts and I keep getting assurances that my child will be back, this is just a phase. But just like in your situation, she is in a relationship with a person who in a matter of a few short weeks poisoned her against us and the rest of her family, somehow re-writing the reality of her past and our relationship. I never would’ve thought our close relationship would be susceptible to this, but here we are. I wish I could know you. I wish I had someone to talk with who really knew what this feeels like so we could lean on each other. I live in Nashville and can’t find one single support group.
      I send you all my love and the knowledge that you’re not alone.

      Warmest-
      Tina

  2. We said goodbye to our Foster Son after seeing him grow from a 2 week old NAS baby. We collected him from hospital. Then said goodbye to strong, happy and inquisitive 10.5 month old. I’m sure I miss him more each day and am struggling to function in everyday life without him. He was always with me. I am linging to feel his chubby little arms around my neck. The pain is so deep….

  3. Thank you so much for this article! Ambiguous loss comes up some much in my therapeutic work with the LGBTQ+ community, when queer people are rejected by their families. There is often a long-term, nagging question like “Will they ever come around? Will they ever be able to love me for who I am? Was it a mistake to come out and drive them away?” I will definitely check out Pauline Boss’ book after reading this. I love that it sounds like it incorporates a lot of DBT concepts, which will fit really well with a lot of the DBT work I already do.

  4. Thank you for this article. I totally understand the concept of “ambiguous loss.” I have an adult son who has been battling mental illness for almost 20 years. He has been hospitalized numerous times, seems to recover and lead a productive, relatively “normal” life for a while, only to “relapse”, which actually implies he was ever free of his mental illness, which he has never really been. He is schizophrenic and is now on medication, but does not comply with the things he needs to do to function in the world. It is especially difficult because he lives in NJ and I live in Georgia. However, I have tried to get him into program after program, with therapists, and case managers only to have him reject the help that is freely offered him. He has been homeless for years, yet keeps turning down offers of housing from his treatment programs. I actually wrote about ambiguous loss in my blog, A Woman Speaks Out, back in 2014. When a loved one physically dies, there is a period of mourning that eventually gives way to some sort of acceptance and healing. But when your child becomes, “someone you used to know”, it is particularly difficult because how can you mourn somebody that has not died? It is easy and anybody who deals with a loved one with dementia or especially mental illness can understand this concept. I mourn the adorable boy he was, the young man with promise, the son who was always on the same wavelength with me, the boy with the great sense of humor. I am always waiting for “the other shoe to drop” and wonder when the next crisis will be. I grieve my boy, who I speak to periodically and actually sounds fairly “normal” on the phone. But, there simply is no reasoning with him about anything he does not want to do. It is a constant battle for me to disassociate myself on some days, just so I can have some sort of happiness. I am in mourning every single day and sometimes I wonder how things would be if he passed away. God forbid, but I could grieve and then begin to heal. But then I hate myself for even thinking the unthinkable. When there is ambiguous loss, you grieve the loss of the essence of your loved one; you mourn every single day, some days less then others. You live in a roller coaster world where one day you may get some good news from his therapists and then suddenly there is no movement or he goes backward. One step forward, two steps back and then you often have to start from scratch. This happens over and over with no relief in sight. You cannot talk to most people about your “loss” because they do not understand. You cannot constantly bombard people with the latest horror story because they do not want to hear it. You have to put on a happy face, when underneath there is about 20% of my brain that cannot ever, ever, be happy. There is that part of me with a broken heart that I have to hide lest I be considered a “negative” person. And then there is the loss of hope—the feeling that nothing will ever get better. That hopelessness is deadly because it leads to depression on my part. I know that acceptance is the key to everything, but this is often a bitter pill to swallow and it is hard to accept that your child is gradually disappearing before your very eyes.

    • Marilyn, my heart goes out to you. 😔. I have a similar situation. A son who is mentally ill and is no longer the same person and I feel no hope at this point of him getting himself help. I have done everything in my power to guide him to help, yet since he is over 18 I can’t do anything to “make “ him get the help he so needs. It’s been a down hill slide since he turned 18 ten years ago. At this point we aren’t speaking. it’s affected me emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I am so so sad and grieving the loss of my son who is still alive. It’s hard to deal with on a daily basis. I feel stuck and not sure how to get through all of this. I would love to find some kind of support group or some kind of help where I can share about this with others in similar situations and possibly get some help for myself. I feel like I am slipping into a dark place I can’t seem to crawl out of. My email is [email protected]. If anyone has any suggestions I would so appreciate it. Thank you all for sharing so candidly. 🙏🏼

  5. Happy to of found this space. My dad was diagnosed a month ago with pancreatic cancer, he’s 74 this year. I wouldn’t say I’ve processed it at all yet, its a befuddled place. I’ve lived in separate countries from my family since I was 15 so almost 30 years, so much time and moments that’s just flowed away. I haven’t seen him for 2 years and they have come to NZ for a visit before he is unable to travel. My heart grieves already as I see him fighting pain and nausea, feeling tired and weak when he is such a strapping man and has always been so strong, an oak tree. I grieve for our lack of time together in the past and now the lack of time together in the future as now that is months not years. I grieve for my mum,who now has the knowledge her love and best friend of 43 years is not going to be here for the time they have talked and planned about. How she holds her self and her tears together so not to upset him as all he cares about is her, the jewel of his life. I grieve for their breaking hearts.
    My youngest (12) and I will go to Australia in the next few months ( where they live ) to be helpful, to be together, my partner and 17 year old will come when they can. I am scared, so scared of what is to come, how to be there, to be useful, to not be in the way, to see him suffer, to see my family suffer, and could maybe do with some resouces if anyone would be so kind to share them with me, cause I need help to get ready for this, for my dad, my mum and brothers and myself.

  6. Thankyou so much for this article. A dear FB friend sent it to me. I have suffered this type of grief for many years over my 2 children becoming addicts, after their father’s suicide.Both being incarcerated and now, my daughter who is on a maintenance drug (Methadone) for addiction., Suddenly and not knowing why, stopped talking to me. Refuses to answer text messages or calls. It has been over a year. I did so much for her in the past during her 12 yr battle with heroin addiction, took care of her child, Took him to other states to see her, gave her $ and did all I could to help her get into recovery many times. Now, she just stops talking to me for no reason? I cried and grieved all this time since she first shut me out and I started realizing that I have to move on with my life, despite the loss and make a new life for myself. One without her and my son, though he was still in addiction, was in and out of jail, sometimes homeless, yet always tried to stay in touch. Always loved me, never deliberately hurt me. So at least I still have him. When you are a care giver for so many years, it is very difficult to find some purpose after that ends. I felt worthless, alone, abandoned. Forgotten and abused. But I prayed so many times to be lifted out of depression. I had major health issues off and on and finally realized I needed to focus on myself and getting well, rather than them. I found a place of letting go of them, though I love them dearly and miss them. To now, just enjoying the little time I do get with my son and my grandson, The rest of the time, focusing on my parents and my husband. It has been long and a hard transition after so many years of being so intertwined with them. I am finally getting to a peace inside I guess. But still have the tear filled days over my daughter. I hope someday she will call me and want to see me again. But until then, I will take your advice and thankyou for writing this article. I had no idea there was a name for this type of grief. You touched on everything I have felt and have been trying to do. Please keep writing and sharing this with us!

  7. I’m so happy that a good friend recommended this site for help. I have a son who was totally traumatized as a 12-year-old by the loss of his 14-year-old brother suffering sudden death in his arms .
    The first son was kept alive by being defibrillated and subsequent I lived in a coma for the next nine months. When this once happy go lucky and normal son reached the age his brother was at the time of his death he endured identification with the deceased . This happened many years ago and eventually spiraled into his decline… Along with many ups and downs… Into full-blown addiction .
    This is going on all through his life and now we have necessarily had to separate our lives from his because of the fact that there are younger children involved and he was living on the Fringe at all times and refused programs… Although he was incarcerated many times. I know he’s a sick human being that we still love… At the present time living on the streets. My question to you is Where can I find the book I need and maybe Even a workbook I could utilize to help me cope with this tragic loss of my second and only living son. I’m now at the age of 75 and the pain rages just as strongly as it did in the beginning when this much loved son took the wrong path through his own pain. Please let me know where I can purchase the necessary books… Thank you very much for your help.

  8. I am new to this website and am so grateful I found it. I am an adoptive mom and I worry about how best to help my 10 year old with the ambiguous loss of his birth parents who are living. I would love a book recommendation for parents of adoptive children, as well as books for adoptive kids that touch on the loss as opposed to feelings around “family” (which are great, but do not touch on loss). I have read “20 questions adopted kids which their adopted parents knew” which touches on loss, but would love some book recommendations for my child and our family.

  9. I’ve followed WYG for years and am so grateful to see another post about ambiguous loss as that is the type of grief I have. Please continue to cover this topic, I deeply appreciate it. Thanks for all your work! <3

  10. Despite all the grammatical errors in this post, which, sorry, really distracted me from the message since I’m a “wordie” at heart, this was a much welcome article!! There is so little written about such losses, and I’ve suffered SO many of these types of “unresolveable” types, it’s become ridiculous (can I label them “unfair”?), seriously debilitating and overwhelming to my entire being. Not having yet read Pauline Boss’s book, I don’t really understand what she means by both holding on AND letting go, simultaneously…a foreign concept I’ve not been able to reconcile or even begin to master, for all my efforts. Ambiguity is really difficult to deal with any area. So you’re right — it’s a “long and complex” process, for sure. I don’t have any ready answers, and as a person who prefers a higher level of certainty to enable a feeling of security, this is all an awfully tough road. At present, I feel I embody more of the “hopeless” type, and can’t even imagine what “redefining” my concepts of “fairness and justice” might look like. So much to chew on in yet another of your articles, so thank you.

  11. My partner has passed he died here in my room I did CPR untill the ambulance arrived. I found out he was seeing prostitutes which broke my heart . I got him to leave but I couldn’t cope missing the man I knew not the other one.Its been 6yrs but I go over it all the time I just couldn’t walk away I feel like a fool when I say I love him but I do is there something wrong with me .

  12. Yes, I hear what Beth is saying. Many types of ambiguous grief. My husband died of ALS in October,, he was diagnosed 15 months before his death So his body failed him but he was 100% himself mentally, .. So I had those extra 15 months of grief knowing he had a fatal condition. Where does that fit it ? Or is it ambiguous grief or something else. Anticipatory grief….maybe a better word.. In the meantime I had to support him through it all.. I was strong for him, not much time or energy to feel my own grief.. Did it give me time to accept it,, did it just add to the grief, will it make my grief now different??.. I don’t know myself. A day at a time.

  13. This article is so great, and I really like Pauline Boss’s work as I found her while doing my own grief research with non-death related losses. So thanks for posting this!

    And…I have to say that I was disappointed to once again not be included with my specific loss. Your title implied that it would…grieving someone who is still alive. My loss is my partner’s able body. He is a quadriplegic and is dependent on his power chair for limited movement and caregivers for mostly everything else. His has lost his able body…this is dead, and yet he is still so very much alive.

    Have you covered losses such as this due to disability issues? It feels like ambiguous loss and yet it doesn’t fit in this category of this blog post.

    This happened back in 2012. I am a therapist (I was at the time of the accident) and I now call myself the Grief Freak mainly because I am so passionate about helping people navigate this thing called grief. But today after feeling so hopeful that this article might speak to me, and then feeling my disappointment about once again not having my loss acknowledged, perhaps I call myself the Grief Freak because I am indeed a freak…someone who doesn’t belong, doesn’t fit it.

    I am not writing this with negativity and I am aware that I need to read Pauline’s book. But I just needed to write a comment about my thoughts.

    And I am curious if you have written on the subject of grief that comes with suddenly dealing with any kind of disability.

    Thanks so much for doing what you do. I love your blogs and posts on Instagram too.

    • Beth, I’m wondering if you looked at our first ambiguous grief post. It gets more to the experience that you are going through (though not entirely). That post is specially about being who are still in your life and you are grieving them not being the person they used to be, vs this follow up post which is about someone who has disappeared. Pauline Boss very clearly talks about both, though your loss is more specifically what they call ‘Non-finite Grief’, so searchs for that might help you to feel more connection. Sorry this wasn’t what you were hoping fo.

Leave a Message

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Disclaimer

WYG provides general educational information from mental health professionals, but you should not substitute information on the What’s Your Grief website for professional advice.

See our terms and conditions here

See our privacy policy here

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

National Suicide Prevention Hotline - 1-800-273-8255

PhotoGrief

Share Your Snapshot

Grief In 6 Words

Submit a Story to Us

What's Your Grief Podcast

Listen to our podcast