Grief & Hope
The deep red cushioned seat hugs me as I sit at a play with my daughter. The overture for Annie began and all of a sudden I started to tear up. I don’t know what it was about that moment that made me miss my dad, I just did. Grief is a multitude of things and it sneaks up on me in the oddest of moments.
At times I find myself pretending that everything we went through never happened. I go about my day. If I’m having fun or feeling hopeful, I struggle with guilt for feeling happy.
And then there are days when I can’t concentrate. When the grocery store is hard. Sending back an email is hard. Cooking is hard. Doing anything but watching Netflix is hard.
Grief is weird.
The flashbacks that were coming constantly after the passing of my dad, have somewhat subsided. But when the house is quiet and I have so much time to think…those are the moments when I realize my dad is not here anymore. A feeling of disbelief hits my heart in a stupor.
Part of me is relieved that I’m not waiting for that call all the time. After months of being worried about my dad and terrified of that call, that anxiety has lifted. And I guess there’s peace where the fear was, because the worst possible outcome…well it already happened.
Grief is stunning.
There is another a part of me that’s avoiding some feelings. My guess is we do this, because of how hard it is to feel the loss of someone we love. I am not someone who usually runs away from her feelings. Wired in a way that I don’t mind showing up on someone’s doorstep when they are in deep sorrow, I am comfortable to be devastated with them. Not change it or take it away. Just be.
Avoidance is new for me, but I know it’s not new for many. I can’t help but wonder if that’s what keeps people at bay during hardship. Is it too scary to experience strong emotions and so survival skills kick in? We avoid, deny, pretend, change the topic, fight or go numb as a response. Or is it the fear of not knowing what to say or do? Perhaps, we lack the stretching of our emotional muscles because we tend to avoid hard feelings.
There’s so much grace for that because we are all made differently. However, it certainly has me thinking of those that are grieving, who might be feeling very much alone.
Grief is lonely.
It’s not easy to walk through hard things.
I actually love the saying we can do hard things. When I ask my teens to do something dumb like pick their towel off the floor I’ll say, “you can do hard things!” and it makes them laugh. The truth is, it is hard to do hard things. Sometimes those hard things are feelings of grief.
If you are experiencing grief, and I know many are…give yourself grace. Whether you’ve lost someone in your life, friendships, a dream, your health or a job…whatever the cause of your grief; however you are feeling about it is okay. All the stages - denial, anger, acceptance…and anywhere in between, it’s okay to be in them.
Take your time. It’s a process. And if you can, please practice self care.
I know that term is thrown around a lot but I am being serious. For me, the only thing that has gotten me through this has been a routine of exercise, spending time with a friend and being okay with not getting things done. The list goes unchecked. It’s okay.
Grief is hard.
Another element that has helped me through my grief is (eventually) doing small things that bring me joy. This may seem odd, but finding things I love to do have brought me life during hardship. As a creative person dance and theater make me happy and doing them are the waves keeping me afloat. As are the people that are in those things with me. They are little pockets of joy… they are meaningful to me and make me smile.
If there’s something that feels good to you, do it. If you finally want to watch the marvel movies in order, go ahead. You want to take a sewing class? Sign up. I think there’s something to be said for a little bit of happy during hard times.
Maybe you cannot fathom joy when you feel so sad. And I get that too. You can totally sit in the dark for days and days and cry and that’s okay too. But for crying out loud please friends, someone bring them a meal!
Grief is sharing.
If you know someone that is experiencing loss or grief or hardship, may I challenge you? If you have a nudge to bring them a coffee or send a text, do it. Don’t be afraid. It’s okay if you don’t know what to say. It’s okay if you don’t know what to write in the card. It’s okay if you don’t have time to make them a meal. Showing up matters.
Stretch your friendship limb and reach out. Let them know you are there. And you know what? It won’t be perfect. You probably won’t say the right thing. It’s okay, you don’t even have to say anything. All that needs to be said (if anything at all) is, I’m so sorry. That’s literally it.
Sometimes I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to do something where I don’t have to think about it and it’s nice to have company in that too. Don’t worry how to be, just be there.
Grief is presence.
Friends I appreciate you being here. Reading the words. If you have toddlers screaming in the background that need a diaper change and mac and cheese and this is not hitting your season of life right now I get that. I’ve been there.
I wanted to validate that grief is a whirlwind of feelings and encourage you in the midst of it. And if you are afraid to step into help someone who is in that well, I hope this inspires you to dip your toes in the water.
This is the call right? Gather hope so we can give to others when they are in need. If your basket is full will you share it? If you’re basket is empty it’s okay. It’s okay to be empty. One day it will be full again. I promise. Because even in grief…
There is hope.
All you are and all you have, is everything you need. We can come through it all, easy seasons and hard, together. Sending you love. Hang in there.
xo
Jenna
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