Truth

I have been debating about writing this blog. I have started it several times and then stopped. I have second and third guessed myself. It is not my intent to turn this blog into a place for me to only share my angst. But, as you my faithful readers know, I’ve been going through some stuff (!) and so while this is from a personal place I have decided to offer this reflection as I think it might offer all readers insight and maybe some clues as to how to support and understand someone who is going through a season of grief.

First, let me tell you it is true. All those expressions that we use are rooted in truth. I do often walk around with a ‘lump in my throat’. I can literally feel a lump when I try to swallow back my grief. I can put on a good front but that lump in my throat reminds me that I am ‘chocking back my tears’, and there is another expression that is in our common speech based in the real experience. I do choke back my tears. Who wants to see someone blubbering all the time even if that is really what is going on? And then there is the ‘knot in my stomach’. Yep, sometimes when my mind gets away on me and my emotions are triggered I can feel my stomach knot and tense. The sayings are based on truth. To add to this, I am astounded at my lack of energy and how quickly I succumb to lethargy. I can’t focus on anything for very long. Reading a book – nope. Watching a tv show – it better be a good one or I am restless and clicking the dial to find something else. Angry – oh ya, got that happening at times I can’t explain. Sleeping – oh, I am constantly tired but I can’t turn out the light at night and then find it hard to wake in the morning.

Others who have been down this road before me tell me it is all normal. The self-help books and grief manuals reassure me that this is typical. Nonetheless it is not easy and I don’t like it. So what do I do? I set one goal a day and if I accomplish just that one thing it is a victory. I talk to friends. I talk to family. I tell people when I want to talk and when I don’t. I push myself … just a bit more … each day. But I also accept myself when I crash and burn. One friend, whose husband died far too young, wrote me the other day and said, “remember to let the memories come and accept them all – the good, the bad and the ugly.” There are good memories and there are ugly ones. There are good days and there are ugly ones. I do believe that grief is a slow and heavy journey.

One quote I like, and I don’t know who wrote it so apologies to the author, says, “I had my own notion of grief. I thought it was the sad time that followed the death of someone you love and you had to push through it to get to the other side. But, I am learning there is no other side. There is no pushing through. But rather, there is absorption. Adjustment. Acceptance. And grief is not something you complete, but rather, something you endure. Grief is not a task to finish and move on, but an element of yourself – an alteration of your being. A new way of seeing. A new definition of self.”

I am finding this to be true. One person asked, with surprise in his voice, “Are you still grieving?” I responded, “I think I will be grieving for the rest of my life. ” I know my grief will change and my perception of my loss will change but I have experienced the death of someone I loved with all my heart, it feels like I have lost a piece of myself, and that will not disappear, not even with the passage of time.

What can you do to support a friend? Be there. Write notes and send texts, sometimes actual verbal conversation is just too hard but to be reminded in gentle ways of the network of support is invaluable. Offer meals and don’t be surprised if the answer is no – sometimes that lump in the throat makes eating hard and sitting at table with others is too big a reminder of the emptiness of the table at home. Go to a movie together – to have the distraction is helpful and to not have to talk is sometimes easy and the comfort of companionship is healing. This one is hard … stay close and give space … put all your intuition to use and try to sense what the other needs without asking. Admit you don’t know what it feels like. Each person’s grief is their own and I am only the expert on what I am feeling and even there I am at a loss most of the time.

The final truth is that love heals and what is needed most is kindness, care and affirmation.