This week I struggled with a topic for my blog post. Usually I have many ideas but this time was different. I was overtaken by grief as the anniversary of a significant loss in my life was approaching. At first it didn’t even cross my mind to write about grief because I had already written a blog post on this topic. But sometimes certain events in one’s life are so impactful that sharing your thoughts, whether spoken or written, may need to be expressed as part of the grieving process.
However, as I thought about moving forward with this blog post topic I noticed hesitancy. I wondered if anyone would want to hear about this topic following a beautiful weekend of weather and celebration of motherhood. I didn’t want to somehow take away from other people’s joy. But then this got me thinking...How often do we hide our grief so we don’t inconvenience or burden other people, or bring the mood down? How often do we avoid making things about ourselves at a time when we need support the most?
The hard truth is that grief is inconvenient. It can arise when we least expect it. It can bring us down for periods of time. It can impact our relationships and work. It’s a powerful emotion. It needs space to breathe and move through us. Grief is like the ocean - sometimes choppy with big waves where we aren’t sure if we'll make it through, followed by periods of calm waters. If we are to live with grief, we must learn to ride its waves.
Death, loss and grief are not new to me. I’ve been attending wakes and funerals since I was about 2 years old. Funeral homes have an odd familiarity and comfort to them as they remind me of my childhood. When I was a kid I didn’t understand death and didn’t know how to interact with my family as I saw them cry and grieve losses that were meaningful to them.
It wasn’t until I lost my aunt/godmother in college that I really understood the depths of grief. I felt the permanence of it while trying to hold onto the truth of her still being present, just in a different way. It took me years to develop this new relationship with her, still finding comfort in our relationship even after she passed. I revisit memories, look at pictures, sit with items that make me feel closer to her, and talk to her often.
Back then I didn’t know what to do with all the pain. I just shoved it down and tried to run from it. It’s interesting to think that I didn’t learn much about what to do with grief given my exposure in childhood. I think it’s because people are uncomfortable with this emotion - both in themselves and others.
People don’t usually know what to say or how to act when someone else is experiencing loss. We use platitudes to try and make it better. The truth is nothing will fix the pain and platitudes often fall short. The best thing we can do for someone grieving is to look straight at their pain and be in it with them in whatever way they need us. It could be sitting in silence, listening to them tell memories of their loved ones, dropping off meals, giving them a brief moment of distraction or laughter, or simply validating their hurt. We want to look away because it’s hard for us to see someone else in pain and know we can’t change it. It’s a helpless feeling, but don’t look away.
For those experiencing grief, the tendency is to hide it and feel the need to “get over it”; that once people stop asking about how they're doing then they’re supposed to be healed. That simply isn’t true. After the initial services and support received immediately after someone passes away, comes perhaps the hardest phase of grief, which is adjusting to life without this person physically here.
During my most recent loss two years ago, I heard a fellow therapist talk about how losing someone can be looked at through a trauma lens. You are suddenly trying to move through life where so many things have changed in an instant. You can never go back to the way you were and how life was before this event. So when I found myself in this place two years ago, I fell into what I experienced as an abyss. It was the space in between life before and life after this loss.
I didn’t know what life after looked like, but I do believe that transformation can come from some of life’s hardest and most painful moments. I kept moving forward, one step at a time. Once I got out of survival mode, I took stock of my life as I reevaluated what was most important to me. Then I began to make changes and gradually over time, I found my new path in life. Healing was slowly happening.
In my healing process I took time to let myself be with my grief. Any time I tried to avoid it, it would catch up to me. I learned it’s better to let it flow through you. I found comfort in stories shared, as I felt that I was getting to know this person in new ways as I saw them through other people’s eyes. I talked with them as if they were still physically here and also wrote to them. I apologized for the guilt I was carrying and told them about the anger I felt towards them and about what happened. This helped me to let these things go.
I learned to share my grief with others and found support in my close relationships who made space long after everyone else stopped asking how I was doing. It’s true that you most likely will need to initiate sharing your grief after more time passes as others may not ask. But just because they don't ask doesn't mean they won’t be with you in it.
This process also taught me many things. I learned how to be vulnerable on a level I had never been before. I grew in my ability to ask for help and really lean on others. I fully saw the power and beauty in people in my life holding me up to give me the strength to really show up and be there for my wife in her grief. My relationships grew closer as I felt held.
I saw other people’s grief differently and made more space for their losses than I had in the past. I became more connected to my spirituality and the spirit world. I learned how to find moments of gratitude, joy, and solace in the hardest of times, and to trust my journey in life. It’s been hard to hold onto the truth that one of the hardest losses and times in my life led to the biggest transformation, which brought changes that eventually has led to a more fulfilling and beautiful life. The mix of emotions in that truth can be hard to reconcile and I find it important to just make space for all of it.
There’s no perfect or even clear path through grief. It’s honestly a mess until it’s less messy. My hope is that if you have or are experiencing grief that you can allow things to be messy, give yourself grace, make space for all the emotions, reach out for help and support, and eventually find purpose and joy again.
If you want support with navigating grief, or would like help in how to support someone in your life who is grieving, reach out to me. The best thing you can do is to not go through it alone.
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