Survivors deal with complex layers of grief

Finding help

Local bereavement resources for grieving families:

PeaceHealth Southwest Medical Center Hope Bereavement Services

• Where: 5400 MacArthur Blvd., Vancouver.

• Contact: 360-696-5120.

The Compassionate Friends of Battle Ground support group

• Where: 912 E. Main St., Battle Ground.

• When: 7 p.m., last Wednesday of each month.

• Contact: 360-904-2827; tcfbattleground@gmail.com

Community Home Health & Hospice adult support group

• Where: 14508 N.E. 20th Ave., Vancouver.

• When: 1 to 2:30 p.m., every second and fourth Monday.

• Contact: 360-253-4626.

The Dougy Center

• Where: 3909 S.E. 52nd Ave., Portland.

• Contact: 503-775-5683; help@dougy.org

Faith helps Hockinson native cope with death of his brother

Ray Bender grew up in rural Hockinson with his younger brother Brian and four sisters. Ray and Brian spent a lot of time together climbing trees, building forts and four-wheeling in the woods — not to mention they shared a bedroom until Ray moved out of the house.

The 32-year-old lives in Watertown, S.D., and saw his brother at least once a year. They were the best man at each other’s weddings.

Ray Bender had just gotten home on Sept. 19, when he got a text message that said Brian had been in a bad accident. While packing to leave for the northwest to see his brother, Ray got the call that Brian died in the hospital.

“It was his time to go. That’s all there was to it,” Bender said. No matter how many “doctors there were to save his life, it was in God’s hands. … That’s where I find comfort.”

The family is part of the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church, where there’s a saying that when someone dies, they die in “living faith.” Bender was at peace with his brother’s death due to his strong faith.

“I knew I didn’t have to worry about my brother anymore. He had gained that victory that we’re all striving for,” Bender said.

Clark County sheriff’s deputies say 30-year-old Brian Bender fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a tree off Northeast 299th Street north of Battle Ground. A nurse came upon the crash, and Brian was flown to PeaceHealth Southwest Medical Center, where doctors tried to repair his ruptured heart. After reviving him several times, Brian succumbed to his injuries.

The way Ray sees it, his brother fell asleep and woke up in heaven.

Ray Bender drove to Washington to attend the funeral and helped carry his brother’s casket to the grave site in Yacolt. He spent some time in Yacolt helping Kimberly, Brian’s wife.

“Through it all, she’s just been amazing,” he said.

She gave birth to a baby boy a few weeks after the crash and has another son, Logan, who was 2 years old at the time of the crash. When the time is right, Ray will be ready to tell Logan what happened to his dad.

— Patty Hastings

Debby Irvine still sleeps on her side of the bed, though the other side is empty. When she hears the garage door open, she think he’s just getting home from work — that is, until reality sinks in.

Her husband died two months ago after he was struck by a vehicle on Interstate 205 in Vancouver. On the morning of Dec. 7, Rich Irvine was heading north when he saw a pickup rear-end a Honda CR-V on the freeway and take off. The 63-year-old pulled his vehicle over to the right shoulder near Burton Road, got out and crossed the freeway to help the Battle Ground man who had been rear-ended. While Irvine was on the phone with 911, a minivan hit the passenger side of the CR-V, pushing it into Irvine. Twelve days later, Irvine succumbed to his injuries.

He was one of 39 people who died in crashes in Clark County last year — an unusually high number of deaths. When compared with the county’s estimated population of 443,817, the figure may seem minute. But, the deaths spiderweb out into the community; with every death, there’s a group of loved ones grappling with an unanticipated loss.

“Death is always a shock whenever it happens,” said Cory Bolkan, who teaches classes on death and dying at Washington State University Vancouver. “When it’s unexpected that can lead to some complicated grieving.”

Debby Irvine’s mother was sick for two years before she died, which drew out the grieving process. Irvine knew she would have to say goodbye to her mother sooner rather than later.

“With (Rich), it was sudden and intense,” she said.

Her daughter, Carrie Curtin, echoed her sentiments. “It took so long for me to just understand that it happened,” she said.

The 26-year-old saw her dad at least every Sunday for family dinners, and they lived just a few minutes away from each other. She described what happened as a terrible movie because it seemed unreal and as though it would be over soon enough. But, she said, the movie didn’t end and her father’s death is now an intrinsic part of her life.

“The reality of it is these losses stay with us. They’re life-changing,” Bolkan said.

‘Grief is lifelong’

The stages of grief made well known by Swiss psychiatrist Elizabeth Kübler-Ross — denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance — can occur in any order, and not everybody experiences every stage, Bolkan said. Kübler-Ross examined terminally ill patients faced with death, but people have applied her theories to any situation involving loss.

Those who are mourning may have difficulty making decisions, feel chest tightness, be oversensitive to sound, and suffer from hallucinations and sleep or eating disturbances, Bolkan said.

“It can kind of feel like one is losing their mind. …These are all very common,” she said. “Grief is lifelong. I don’t think that’s a very common perception.”

Grief symptoms can happen right at the moment someone gets the news that their loved one has died, or it might not happen for several months, or even years in instances of delayed-onset grief. It can be difficult for others to understand what the bereaved are going through and to know what to say, Bolkan said. She advises people to be gentle with those experiencing a loss.

“Hopefully, over time, people will start to have more good days than bad days,” she said.

Debby Irvine eventually went back to her job as a pediatric nurse and Curtin returned to teaching the first grade.

“Even though we’re sad there, we’re still there,” Irvine said. “Everybody’s functioning.”

“You can’t stay home forever,” Curtin said.

“There are times at work where I think I’m going to be fine,” Irvine said. “Some days are better than others.”

Life has become a lot busier without Rich around to help with daily chores and errands. Not to mention, Debby Irvine is trying to settle life insurance policies that her husband had.

With her individual nursing income, she can’t continue to live the life she had with her husband. His job in sales brought home twice as much as she earns. She looks to sell her home in Camas and downsize.

“I’m a single woman now and was married for 40 years. It’s an identity crisis for me,” she said.

Open cases, ongoing grief

The investigation into the crash that fatally injured him is ongoing. The driver who allegedly caused the series of collisions, 28-year-old Joshua Fraham, has a hearing scheduled this week.

Irvine and Carrie sometimes wonder what would have happened if the hit-and-run driver had stayed on scene.

Several other traffic fatalities from 2014 are considered open, unresolved cases. Lengthy or delayed criminal proceedings can make it hard to move on, Bolkan said, and whatever the verdict is could certainly play a role in the grieving process.

“It’s the long-term effects that can be challenging,” Bolkan said. “It’s not just this loss that happens in the moment of the crash, it’s this lifetime of trying to find a new normal.”

Curtin is saddened by the thought of her father missing upcoming milestones, such as her sister Kristin graduating from Union High School in June and starting college. Curtin’s baby boy is due in April. She plans to name him Richard George, just like her father and her father’s uncle before him.

“It makes exciting things kind of sad,” Curtin said. Rich Irvine was looking forward to being a grandfather.

Losing the opportunity to share major life moments can revive those initial feelings of grief, according to Bolkan. The same goes for a sight, sound, smell or anything else that triggers a memory of a lost loved one.

“I still give myself time to be sad and feel it,” Curtin said. “I cry on my way home.”

The pair joined a grief support group through PeaceHealth Southwest Medical Center. Many of the people there lost someone to cancer, others lost grandchildren or spouses. Having someone who can relate to loss is comforting and reminds them that they’re not alone.

“You do feel a little different. … I feel like an outsider now,” Irvine said.

But, in the support group they’ve met people who lost someone years ago and have since adapted to life without them. It’s a future both women look forward to; one where they can recognize Rich Irvine’s death and be able to cope with it.

“These are really important losses that are never over, they just become part of our identity and our story,” Bolkan said.