On Grief

Grief is something Americans are generally uncomfortable talking about. No one knows what to say at funerals. After the first few days following the burial, people just stop checking up on those who lost a loved one. I think that's because it's hard for us to watch someone suffering pain that we cannot fix.

Grief comes in different forms and for different reasons. I have always been considered "the sentimental one" in the family. Recently I figured out that it's not that I'm sentimental in the traditional sense. (Ok. I AM sentimental in the traditional sense, too.) It's more that I am grieving for things yet to be lost. That probably sounds crazy. Maybe so, but I've been this way as long as I can recall.

I remember being little and holding my dog, Heidi, while I cried. She wasn't sick. She was fine. I just knew that "someday" she would die and I cried about it before it even happened. That's my first memory of what I'm going to call pre-grief.

Parenting is a LONG string of pre-grieving opportunities. Every new thing a child does marks the end of a phase of their childhood. As happy as I am that I don't have to change diapers anymore, it is unbearably sad that my kids will never be that small again. My son started pre-school yesterday. A stepping stone to new possibilities and a little step away from little boyhood.
My daughter is 10 and still likes to hold my hand as we walk around places. No matter how hot it is that day, I always let her because there will come a day that she won't want to anymore.

This pre-grief thing is a hard way to live. Still, I think it makes me very appreciative of what I have. I try to squeeze every ounce of special-ness out of each moment I live.

What about real grief? When I've passed through one of those moments I had dreaded and mourned ahead of time, it's like looking into a box filled with familiar but difficult memories. I've in essence practiced for this moment. When a wave of true "now" grief passes over me, I peek into that box and live with the feelings as long as I can stand it, then close the lid. Each time I have to pull out that "box" my feelings are a little different. I recently told a friend about this after the loss of her daughter. The loss never goes away. However, the way you view the event, and yourself, definitely changes. There have been times when I felt like the weakest person alive. Later, sometimes much later, I look back and I can see that even during those helpless moments, I had an inner strength I didn't know about at the time.

Grief is unavoidable. It's part of the human experience. Grief is a sign held up to express what we value and how important it is to us. Even if we grieve in a very private way, the fact that we do at all is a sign that marks a moment in our journey through life.