Grief, My Teacher

I’m no expert on grief. Nor have I experienced the kind of trauma that makes a person wonder how anyone could even survive and come out the other side. However, minimizing pain is an all too common and unhealthy practice in our culture! Therefore, I want to acknowledge and share the pain and grief I have experienced in hopes that when you go through painful times, you too can acknowledge your pain. It’s not helpful to compare pain and loss to other’s experiences. Loss and pain are not quantifiable. We experience them how we experience them. Period. While I do not claim to be an expert, I did respond to my grief by joining a group called GriefShare at my church, reading various books, and having a counselor for a while. I wanted to share some insights I learned while doing the work of experiencing grief. I hope it can be helpful if you, yourself are going through a loss, or if you know someone going through a loss.

Everyone experiences grief differently and responds to it differently. When my mom died, it took me a while to accept that my dad and my brother were very private about their feelings. They didn’t need to express their grief the way that I did. I finally realized, that didn’t mean they weren’t feeling it intensely too, they just weren’t showing it in the way I thought they should. Once I accepted that, it relieved some of the other tensions and feelings that were related to the loss, but secondary.

Physical, somatic symptoms can be caused by grief. Forgetfulness and fatigue were the ones I experienced most intensely. It was a relief to find out that my fatigue was normal months later and wasn’t something I should be beating myself up about, but rather a reason I should be giving myself grace. It’s a good idea to go to the doctor after a period of mourning. People experience all kinds of somatic effects: GI symptoms, blood pressure changes, memory loss or confusion and more. Especially in the early stages of grief, normal tasks like getting dressed or grocery shopping, can become overwhelming. Just focusing on the next small task and accomplishing it is a good goal, and by small, I mean really small: making the grocery list, putting clothes in the laundry etc. one small thing at a time.

I remember reading an article that resonated with me when I was in the early stages of grief. The author spoke of how when her great loss first happened, she couldn’t do anything. She, literally, didn’t know whether to sit or stand, she didn’t know when to cry or stop crying. She goes on to explain how the funeral liturgy gave her such consolation during that time. The words were chosen. There was a time for lament, for mourning, for crying out, for asking forgiveness, and there was a time for hope, and for thanksgiving, and even, for joy. This writer felt she was being held by something bigger than herself and she was allowed to just enter into that rhythm. She was comforted by those who came before her a few thousand years ago, and yet, the experience of death was still the same.

It is normal to grieve a loss. Having intense emotions is the normal and appropriate response. We should not feel like we need to suppress our emotions or hide them. We should not be ashamed of them. The intensity of the pain won’t last forever. When we are able to lean in to our emotions, name them, recognize them as the appropriate response to a loss like this, then, slowly we are also able to move through the intensity to the other side. When we push the emotions away and suppress them, we aren’t able to appropriately move through them, and the pain may actually hold onto us longer or have other unhealthy consequences. This doesn’t mean we let our emotions rule our life forever. It means, especially in this season of intense loss, we allow ourselves to feel a wave of emotion as it comes, and we give ourselves the space and time to respond to it.

People often aren’t sure how to respond to someone who has experienced a great loss. I think it’s beautiful that the most common response is to send food or flowers. It’s like we know instinctively, when there’s nothing that can be done to take away the pain, we can, at least, try to send some beauty and some nourishment. As the weeks and months pass by, people are often uncomfortable to bring up the person who passed, afraid it might remind them of their loss. I would advise to err on the side of: NOT being afraid to bring up the person’s loss. If the grieving person responds by saying they can’t really talk about them right now, that’s fine. But, most often it will be a small consolation for the person who is, most likely, already thinking of their loved one all the time. I was always so touched when someone would tell me how much they loved my mom or were thinking of her. It consoled my heart, little by little, to have loved ones who saw what I saw in her.

The Griefshare program recommends writing a letter to loved ones and coworkers letting them know clearly what you need during this time. People want to help you, but they don’t know what you need unless you are honest. Tellling others specifically that’s it’s ok to talk about your loved one, that if you cry they can just sit with you quietly, stating that you might not be up for doing everything you used to, but you are still happy to be invited, asking them to reach out to you if you’ve been silent for awhile, are all possible examples of things you can state. It’s also a good idea to have a list of practical help ready. Be willing to accept help. Your loved ones sincerely want to do something for you. It is a blessing for them and yourself to just accept their help. Can they help with housework, childcare, shopping, tasks that the person who passed used to take care of?

Your entire world changes when you experience the loss of a loved one. I think of it as a hue that colors everything from now on. The house won’t feel right, spaces they used to be will feel emptier, and joyful moments are bittersweet because it’s a new memory without that person. But somehow, joy and sorrow are intertwined in a mysterious way from now on. Though the sorrow runs deep, joy will eventually be found, and the surprising thing is it is not found after the sorrow dissipates, but right there in the midst of it.

This world is not the way it is supposed to be. Death is the ultimate enemy. Whenever smaller griefs come to me now, they bring up the feelings of my big grief- losing my mom. And whenever I am able to reflect on the mysterious sorrow and joy that was loving my mom, I am reminded that my ‘big grief’ is a connection to the ultimate grief that is living in this broken world and that this is not our ultimate home. We do not deal with death well in our culture. We don’t really deal with death at all. We don’t think about it, it doesn’t touch us as often and as early as it does in most cultures and generations, and then when it does touch us, we’re supposed to move on from it quickly with no rituals or ancestral guidance on how to do so. I was watching some British period movie, and the protagonist widow had to wear black for a whole year. I’m not saying that all mourning rituals were perfect, but it got me thinking that, at least, that tradition allowed the grieving person to let all strangers know for a whole year- “please, be gentle with me. Please, give me a little extra grace right now.”

Psalm 13 begins, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?” There are many other psalms like this, prayers that cry out to God about the pain of this world. Well meaning Christians, sometimes, want to skip to the verses that have hope and joy. But for someone who is grieving to know that King David himself felt like this and told God how he felt, it can be extremely comforting. It is ok to feel angry with God. He also knows the pain and unfairness of death. Before he brings Lazarus back to life, “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35). He didn’t cry or tear up, he wept. He knew he was about to bring him back to life. Why would he weep? Because death was not how it was supposed to be. Because death, even with the hope and promise of eternal life, is sorrowful. When I first faced the death of a loved one, I felt much closer to the world that is to come. I became keenly aware how much our ancestors surround us, how close they are and how they continue to love- of course they do- they entered the place of eternal love.

As the holidays approach, it can be a particularly intense time for those who are grieving. Try to plan ahead for extra rest. Have clear boundaries and communicate what changes you might need to make this season. Plan a new tradition that incorporates your loved one, whether that is making their favorite holiday meal, setting an empty seat to acknowledge the hole at the table, or just sharing a memory.

In, “A Grief Observed,” C.S. Lewis says, “Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape.” The journey of grief is long, even life long to a certain degree, but in the end, love remains.