Grief

My last post was about something that people don't like to talk about. So is this one.

Grief.

It seems to be inescapable lately.

I started this post and abandoned it several weeks ago, prompted by a first-time experience: death inside of me.

(Insert lots of details here about how I was pregnant and now I'm not...but I’ll leave those for another time.)

The same week as my loss, a dear friend’s mother ended her battle with aggressive brain cancer. And then, today we learned of a tragic death in the family that my husband was practically an honorary member of in high school.

A few months ago it was my former pastor’s grandson. A few years ago, one of my husband’s best friends. Another of my dear friends also had a miscarriage this year.

It seems the older we get, the more frequently we experience it.

It's not just physical death, either. You can grieve the loss of friendships, of relationships, of community. 

Loss. Grief. Sorrow.

I think, as a whole, that this particular grouping of emotions just isn't something we immediately know how to handle. Especially for those of us who have spent a lot of time in church, there's an often out-of-balance tension between the extremes of giving in to despair and constantly expressing praise to God no matter what. And sadly, the latter of those extremes is often considered to be the only acceptable option, with a lot of shame (intentional or not) surrounding the former.

As I’ve walked through the last month, I’ve realized that there should be a tension between those two extremes.

Healing and sorrow, praise and sadness can (and often do) walk hand in hand.

We have to be okay with this. We have to allow ourselves and each other to feel safe in experiencing the huge variety of feelings that come along with the losses in our lives.

So what does that actually look like?

I'm not claiming to have all the right answers to this, but I have a few thoughts to share based on both my personal experience of late, and conversations with others who are also walking through a valley. 

1. Say something.

I truly, truly appreciate people who understand that sometimes people (i.e., introverts…i.e., me) need space. But please, don't decide for anyone else how much space they should have and when they should have it. Let them tell you.

Reach out. All it takes is a text letting someone know you're thinking of them and you're there for whatever they need. You can (and often should) even reach out with an offer to meet a specific need. If they don't respond, don't take it personally. That is them telling you they need space. 

But reach out. There is a very fine line between a grieving person’s experience of "space" and something else we call "isolation."

2. You CAN say the wrong thing.

I'm not saying to tip-toe around, paranoid that you will screw everything up just by opening your mouth. Just be aware that a lot of truly well-meaning people have unwittingly said very not-well-received words to people in grief.

If what you're about to say starts with "At least..." or "You can always..." it's a pretty safe assumption that it will not be helpful.

You know what is helpful?

"I love you."

"I'm so sorry."

"This really sucks."

"I'm here for you," or even "I'm praying for you."

"Hugs."

The end. Period.

 Don't let the very human reaction of putting a positive or spiritual spin on things take over. Again, remember that tension is okay. There will come a time when words like that may be appropriate. This is not that time.

3. Realize that grief is not linear.

It's not a sprint to the finish, or even a marathon trudge to the end. It does not always press forward.

It's more like a maze. At times, it feels like you've made great progress and are heading straight toward the exit. Sometimes, you'll find yourself up against a wall, running into the same corner over and over again. You might even find yourself circling back to a place you were in before, close to the entrance. And that's okay.

It will not last forever. Eventually, the grieving person will find the exit. That is not to say that the effects of the loss will be forgotten and the impact of the one lost will no longer be felt. It just means that the grieving period will end. How long this takes will obviously look different from person to person.

So, remember that in a few weeks when your regularly scheduled programming has resumed, the grieving person is likely still in the maze. Don’t forget to check in...weeks, months, even years later.

And if you’re reading this and you're the person on the inside of the grief maze, having experienced a loss…I hope you have people in your life who will tell you this in word and in deed:

Your grief is important and it matters.

Your grief is important and it matters.

Your grief is important.

And it matters.