Grief is the worst of human experiences. And people handle it differently. When my mother died, which was my worst encounter with death, I dealt with it by acting out sexually. Anytime, anyplace, anyone--as long as it was guys!--because the temporary release from reality it gave me was worth it. Or so I thought, then. Do I regret this? Yes. But all of this, and subsequent recovery, led me to David, who was worth all the aggravation I had to face. Like my relations telling me I was holding my father back because I could not find a job. Well, I did, worked for 35 years, and proved them wrong. Now, where are they?
Which is to say people handle grief differently. Sometimes the grief is turned inward, as mine was. It could have been worse. I might have committed suicide. I never thought of it, but I know some people have done that in reaction to grief.
Where grief becomes dangerous is when it turns lethal, and the grieving acts out by blaming someone for their situation. Two dramatic stories accurately represent this point, so let us start with "Chicago MED."
The season 10 opener, entitled "Sink Or Swim," sent the ED into casualty mode when a capsized ship brought in more patients than could be handled. Blood supply was low, and some patients had to be given it, over others. I should add here that two specialized terms are used. What we all know as the ER, is here, on this show called the ED. And the room where the most traumatic patients are put is called Baghdad.
As the season progressed, it became apparent that an unknown someone was stalking Sharon Goodwin (S. Epatha Merkerson). Viewers find out who the stalker is in the season's final episode. It is a woman named Cassidy, played wonderfully by Tiff Abreu, and hers is a sad story. I cannot condone what she does to Goodwin, but I can understand where she is coming from.
Cassidy was one half of a lesbian couple. Her wife, Wendy, was one of the capsized brought to ED, having been crushed in some debris. The blood needed did not go to Wendy but another patient.
Cassidy is having trouble moving on. How does one do so, from the love of one's life? I understand that. But her solution is wrong. She projects all her misery and blame onto Sharon Goodwin, confronting her in her office, where she eventually stabs her.
Now Sharon knows who her stalker was. But she does not know why Cassidy is taking things out on her. Cassidy tells Sharon the above details, saying that Wendy did not matter to Sharon at all, because she gave the blood to the man who caused the accident, and was the reason Wendy was crushed by debris.
Cassidy's hatred is palpable, and she carries a knife in her hand. Sharon tries to reason with her, but in the wrong way, explaining she was handling things by corporate protocol. Even if this is true, no one in Cassidy's situation wants to hear this. Which leads to Sharon being stabbed by Cassidy.
What follows is interesting. Because, after Sharon is stabbed, lying on the floor, seemingly dying, instead of being happy, Cassidy becomes anxious and concerned. Having gotten her revenge, she does not get gratification; some part of her realizes she has gone too far, which indicates she has some degree of remorse.
Cassidy's deed was inexcusable. But Abreu's performance makes the viewer feel her pain, so that I had much sympathy for Cassidy. In the end, Sharon is operated on, recovers, Cassidy is arrested, and I hope she will get some professional help.
I have to wonder about her relationship with Wendy, as we get no indication of that. Was Cassidy a loving partner? Or, when she does not get her way, or things become complicated, as sometimes they do, does she get unhinged? One wonders, from what is seen of Cassidy if this is what Wendy had been living with.
I also have some questions for the writers, as to why the boat driver causing the accident was chosen over Wendy. Was it homophobia? Did the driver have a wife, children, and grandchildren? I am not sure if we ever know, but I would like to for the sake of context.
Nevertheless, like "The Sleepover" and "A Dollar, A Dream," in "Cold Case," this episode of "Chicago MED" pressed buttons in me. To all the Cassidys out there, I urge you to get professional help. Lethality does not guarantee satisfaction.
Now, Robert Javison, brilliantly played by James Murtaugh in the 1987 film "The Rosary Murders" is a different matter. His unhinged grief turns him into a vengeful serial killer. But his story is worse, because he is his own worst enemy.
The Javison family unraveled when their 16-year-old daughter, Kathy, committed suicide three years before the actual story takes place. She did this because, from the time she was 16, her father, Javison, was regularly abusing her sexually. She wanted it to stop. She talked to a high school advisor, a nun, who chastised her for having foul thoughts and spreading false rumors. She could not conceive of a father doing such a thing to his daughter--until a month later, when it is learned Kathy killed herself, and the nun knew then she had been telling the truth. Guilt ridden, she retreats to a cloister, taking a vow of silence as penance
Mr. Javison is grief stricken by his daughter's death, and the breakup of his marriage, as his wife eventually leaves him. What he cannot handle is being the cause of all this, and instead he blames it on the Catholic church, whom he feels gave him no help at all.
He is a scary man, as no one in the Detroit diocese, where the story takes place, has any idea who will be next, or when. When Javison confronts his chief antagonist, Father Ted Nabors, played by Charles Durning, he tells Father Robert Koessler (the sleuth priest, played by Donald Sutherland) that Kathy's soul is in Hell. I do not believe that; it is Javison who is more deserving of that, because he drove Kathy to do what she did. And in the end, Javison becomes a suicide, as when he goes to shoot Nabors, a police shoots Javison; hence suicide by cop.
As Javison lies dying, Koessler gives him absolution, as the dying man squeezes his hand. So, redemption may be possible.
The entire Javison family needed as much professional help as Cassidy did. I have to wonder, as it is never stated, if his wife knew about the abuse, or did she look the other way.? She could not look past her daughter's suicide, and on some level may blame herself and her husband, indicating she might have known but was afraid to deal with it. Hence, she departs.
Grief can do horrible things to people, and these examples are just fiction. But there are real people out there. If you are grieving, seek professional help. If you know someone who is grieving, reach out to them.
All of this just might make a difference!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3 comments:
“Closure” is a misleading word.
it’s a myth that you eventually “get over” a major trauma or tragedy.
Victoria, I agree. Looking back, in spite of the good marriage my parents had, I don't think my mother got over my sister's father's death.
Yes, grief can truly drive people completely off the rails. I have had a couple of close friends completely destroy their lives acting out in misguided reponse to those feelings. Its deeply distressing to know you're powerless to help them unless/until they themselves choose to change course (unfortunately many people in such circumstances choose not to seek help or alter trajectory).
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