Confusion, Grief and Dealing

A few days ago, the GS got a call from his family in Bangladesh with an urgent message: Come home now, or never see your father again. Well, of course he wanted to see his father, but was faced with a rather impossible situation: if he left Korea, he wouldn't be able to come back. Maybe ever. Such is the life of an undocumented worker. Not to mention the fact that he works for a union and barely makes enough to eat in a month, much less buy a plane ticket. So needless to say, he didn't go.

Yesterday morning, another call came from Bangladesh. His father had died. I can't really pretend to know what he is feeling about this. But I know that he was already racked with guilt and feels as though is father's illness was his fault. You see, his father had a stroke just after a huge fight they had over the phone. And he hasn't been home in 10 years so he has missed seeing his daughter grow up, his sisters and brothers become women and men, and his father's steady progression into illness. The GS is the oldest son in his family, and now as such is responsible for the welfare of his brothers and sisters in Bangladesh since his father has passed. He is now not only the man of the family he created in Bangladesh, but also the man of the family he was born into. In abestentia, that is.

So I was crazy busy at work yesterday and didn't know that the GS had been trying to reach me all day. Finally at 5 I checked my messages and discovered that his father had died. He asked me to come home as soon as I could, and I did. But unfortunately that was at 7:30. I came home to an empty house and he wasn't answering his phone. Finally he called me to say that he had gone to Mosque to pray, something that I'm pretty sure he hasn't done for 10 years. He came back 2 hours later, his face dark and stormy in way I had never seen before, and remained reticent.

I have never been good at the these kinds of things. I did the only thing I could think of: gave him food, coffee, a lot of hugs, a head massage, and my ears if he wanted them. About an hour later he tells me, "It's Islamic law. No physical contact for three days. No crying. No drinking. Only praying. Alone." So no kissing? No hugging? No crying? Nope. And you have to be alone?

Well now I'm really at a loss. And utterly exhausted from a really terrible, confusing and busy week. I'm feeling stressed about how I can be there for the GS with having absolutely no tools to deal with this cultural difference. I can't tell if he wants to be alone and or with me and when I ask he says he doesn't know. So after dancing around the issue for 2 hours, I went to bed. He came to bed about 2 hours later, turned his back to me and didn't really even look at me this morning. This morning I had to work (yes, it's Saturday) and the GS wanted to go to a mosque in Ansan, which is about 2 hours away so I haven't seen him today either. When I call him, he doesn't really answer my questions and kind of avoids committing to coming home or being anywhere in particular. I never would have guessed that this is his way of coping with loss.

So he is dealing with his grief alone. He is dealing with his guilt alone. I feel totally shut out and apart from his life. And it hurts me to watch him hurt so much. I don't know what to do, but I know the last thing I want to do is talk to him about how I feel because this really isn't about me. I am worried about him. I worried that if he feels like I'm not supporting him now, he'd rather be with someone who understands his culture, religion and traditions, so I guess that means I am worried about us, too.

He asked me to pray for his dad and his family, but I really don't know how to do that. I'm not sure who or what to pray to. I don' t know what I would say. So mom, maybe you could do it for me? Sister? Anyone? How do you do that?