Grief and all its Inbetweens
In my life, I have experienced grief in many ways. I have lost friendships, failed at lifelong dreams, lost myself more times than I would like to admit, mourned my childhood, and watched my father’s casket as it was lowered into the ground.
Among all of those, the death of my father rings the loudest.
There is a finality to death. There is no room for apologies or admitting mistakes. There is rarely a warning or reason. And there is no way to measure your grief. I was not prepared for that kind of heartbreak, and I later learned I would never be the same after feeling something that deeply. Doctors talk about people dying from broken hearts, and I believe it. You sink so deeply into every memory, conversation, thought, and dream of this person that it seems to feel unreal. How can someone be there and just gone the next.
Death robs you of all the memories you planned to make, the love you still had to give, and the dreams you had for them.
Nevertheless, with no reason or rhyme, you must continue to live without this person. You must create a life beyond them and outside them while fighting what feels like betrayal. Betrayal because how can you live when a part of your life is missing. How can you plan and laugh while there’s the constant reminder of all this love that has no place anymore. It’s maddening to feel guilt for living. Which is why I think it turns to anger. You get angry at them for not being here. You get angry at God for taking them away because doesn’t he know it’s a package deal? You get angry at yourself for still wallowing in what feels like self-pity but is actually grief. You get angry and then somehow you get lost. You stop doing the things that remind you of them. You stop listening to anything that might make you sad. You stop aiming for better. You stop being a real friend, sister, and niece because you don’t know how to connect the disconnect that happened when it finally sunk in. You stop being you.
In between all of that, you might not even look angry…you might just look a little lost, sad, and mostly numb.
People will say you’ve changed and those that know the feeling, will say you’re just going through a rough time…it’s only understandable.
Somewhere along the way, you’ll find a reason to live a little or barely make it. You’ll look at the people still close to you and never wish a pain like that on them and then finally, you’ll find a way to go through the grief. You’ll talk about how unfair life is and no one will protest. You’ll cry because they should’ve gotten the peace they deserved. You’ll pray that they are safe wherever they are and then you’ll start to pray that God keeps you safe. You’ll learn, slowly but surely, that it all takes time. Sometimes you won’t think about them for a while and then, a special day comes up and you just wish you could hear their voice one more time. Other days, you’ll thank God for all the memories you have of them, play their favorite music, watch their favorite movies, and tell the people close to you how much they would’ve loved them. Then you’ll pray for peace of mind, for understanding that can’t come from you alone, and finally, you’ll try to build a life worth living along the way.
Sometimes we mask the pain of grief so well we almost believe we’ve found a cure…but there’s no way around it, only through it.