Susan Cohen's daughter Theo, at age twenty, was murdered by the terrorists who blew up Pan Am Flight 103 in 1988. (From Rage Makes Me Strong, Time Magazine, July 29, 1996)
The very phrase 'grief process' tells it all. Bland, neutral words that have nothing to do with my personal hell. The grief therapists I encountered at first were no better than the books.
There was the rabbit-eyed, frightened individual who would cower behind his desk when I was in his office and who told me to adopt a child. I couldn't even look at children then. There was the tough therapist who told me to get back into the flow of life quickly and encouraged me to get on a plane well before I was ready. My trip to the airport left me a crumpled wreck in the parking lot. There was the grief group therapist who told me she was worried about my anger, that I should open my heart. Well, my heart was open, all right. It was an open, bleeding wound. I didn't need cliches. Most of all, I didn't need anyone telling me there was something wrong with the enormous rage I was feeling. My daughter dies in a mass murder, and I'm not supposed to feel anger?
I am skeptic by inclination, a fighter by nature, and it was beginning to dawn on me that there were a lot of people making a lot of money promoting denial and passivity. Of all the emotions I have felt since Theo's murder, anger is the best. Rage give me energy. Rage makes me strong.
-Susan Cohen
