My Grief Journey
Warning: This post is heavy. This post talks about death, loss and grief.
If I’m completely honest with you, I’ve been unable to write this post for a year. I have tried many many times and have stopped, because I’m afraid of how much it is speaking to my own soul. My father died suddenly in January 2020 and my grandmother died four months later. I am still working through my grief and often think about the “what ifs,” but I think it’s too important to not share what I’ve learned throughout my grief journey.
What I’ve learned about grief:
Grief is an awful, physically painful, beautiful, misunderstood, exhausting, natural and never ending thing.
I can’t explain it. I can’t stop it. I can’t anticipate it. Simple tasks seem difficult, but simple is easiest. Words frustrate and encourage me. Memories and pictures hurt and help heal. Tears come easy, but are stuck inside somehow.
You can wish it away, but it’s still there. All you can do is breathe, take one moment at a time and lean on those around you.
I feel fragile and I don’t like it. Like I could break at any thing that triggers a memory. Or someone speaking about sad things. Or someone talking about something trivial.
I am exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Emotionally.
Jumping back into a routine has been helpful, but difficult. Being busy is good. Nights are restless.
Firsts are hard. Firsts are hard. Firsts are hard.
It’s just fine to feel a little heavy, and it’s just fine to sit here and catch my breath, and it’s just fine to be a mess at times, and it’s just fine to be relatively normal sometimes. It’s just fine to miss them. It’s just fine to let it all hit me, surrendering and succumbing. And it’s just fine to remember that grief has no rules, and that really, it will in many ways last as long as love does. (Scribbles and Crumbs)
Grief is ever changing, surprising, frustrating, breath-taking, impairing, supportive, uniting, unique and different every day.
Having people remind me to take it one step at a time and remembering to give myself grace are super important.
I don’t know how I will react to certain situations. And time is frustrating. I feel strong and weak at the same time.
My grief is so very different from someone else’s, even in similar situations. There are those that walk similar roads, but their’s have different potholes and curves than mine.
Telling people that don’t know is hard.
Grief is one of the roughest paths to walk. It’s full of emotions and feelings you didn’t know you could feel. It’s messy. It’s hard. It’s raw. It’s real.
It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to smile. It’s okay to enjoy life. It’s okay to cry in the chip aisle at Kroger. It’s okay to hear a song and feel like you can’t’ breathe. It’s okay to say I can’t do that. It’s okay to laugh. It’s okay to let things go. It’s okay to hold onto that one thing. It’s okay to just be.
What can you do to help someone who is grieving?
Number one thing you can do for someone who is grieving is be understanding. While grief is a natural part of life, it is not easy nor does it get easier the more you experience it. Allow someone who is grieving to feel whatever they are feeling in the moment. Grief hits hard sometimes and it comes out of nowhere. Grief triggers can’t be predicted, so understanding that sometimes yourself or your friend’s mood might change suddenly and that’s okay.
Don’t feel like you have to say anything? Grief has the ability to fill us with so much sympathy without providing the proper words. If you don’t have words, that’s okay. Let them know that you just wanted to check in and let them know you’re still there.
If you want to send a gift, let me suggest some items you might not usually think about instead of flowers or trinkets. Many who are grieving are in the process of just trying to take the next step. They are making and cancelling plans, fielding dozens of phone calls, and having to juggle more than they can possibly handle. A gift of paper towels, toilet paper, paper plates, cups and disposable silverware make it easier for them to just be and not worry about running out of a staple and having to go the store. A basket of snacks and a case of water help when the thought of cooking is too much. Restaurant and grocery store gift cards are good in the following weeks as they start adjusting to a new normal and making decisions is still hard.
Don’t forget to keep checking in with them. A lot of people reach out in the first few weeks and then when the emotions have started to settle and the realization sets in, there are not as many people checking in. Set a reminder of your phone to reach out every couple weeks or monthly (depending on what you feel is best).
Make Your Time Count
Friends, we are not promised tomorrow, or a few hours from now and not even the next few minutes. More and more, I find myself realizing that time is short and putting things off can no longer be a normal thing I do.
May I encourage you to find a way to reach out to your friends and let them know how much they mean to you.
Don’t wait for them to call or text – do it now.
Go lock yourself in the bathroom and shoot them a text.
After your Target/Walmart/Costco trip, sit in the parking lot for 5 minutes and give them a call to say “hi, miss you. I only have 5 minutes to talk, but wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”
Buy a pack of greeting cards off Amazon/Hallmark/your favorite store and pause that show you are about to binge and write them an encouraging note.
Take the time.