The Sea of…

Grief, it’s a weird experience. Like the ocean grief is constantly moving, calm at times, raging on occasion, but always flowing through and around.  You have to get through the rough seas to live in the calm. 

So many of you, my friends and family, are struggling in your ocean of grief.

I see you. I love you. I am you. 

So many people I love have moved beyond my reach and I miss each of them deeply. Let me share how I manage to keep from drowning. 

If my thoughts help, wonderful.  If not, I am here, listening, and ready to hug.

My current process…

Step 1: Survive Through the Fog.

Fog makes it impossible to see where you are headed.  You can see only to the ends of your arms, and they are empty.  When a loved one leaves, the fog is filled with final arrangements, confusion, and pain.  Everything hurts. Nothing makes sense. 

Just survive.  Eat, even though you aren’t hungry.  Drink some water.  Get some sleep. Really, all you have to do is survive.  The fog will lift. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, when it lifts you will be alive.

My Example: When my father passed, I was at work. As many of you know, he had been ill for a very long time. I had visited him a week before and knew his time here was short. I remember the phone call. The next few weeks are all fog. I ended up with Mom, 200+ miles away. There is a vague memory of driving with my two younger brothers. I remember a little more after the funeral. My older sister and I stayed with Mom for a while. I believe we repainted her bedroom, but honestly, I’m not sure. What did we actually accomplish? We survived the fog.

Step 2: Keep Going.

It is easy to just want to sink.  Don’t.  You know the one you are missing would say, “What are you doing?  It isn’t your time!  Live your life!”  So do that.  Whatever you need to do to feel a little more present, do it. 

This part is hard, really hard.  You can do hard things. So, yes, go back to work, get through the holidays, make some new memories, and keep going. This part can last years. That’s OK!

My Example: My mother’s passing was devastating. During her last few weeks, I struggled to even imagine living without her. When she was gone, I knew I had to keep moving with my life. So I put one foot in front of the other and did it. I couldn’t think of Mom without tears. So I confined memories to time alone, and I cried. But, every day, I got up. I went to work. I raised my kids. I lived my life. I spent nearly ten years crying, but living.

Step 3: Spend Time Intentionally Grieving

Yeah, I know, you are feeling pretty normal now, at least a new normal. Why is there more?  Because, my friends, you haven’t truly let go.  You haven’t acknowledged, fully, all you’ve lost. Spend time in grief, intentionally.  Set aside time, every day, for 30 days in a row, and grieve. 

When my dear friend shared this idea with me (thanks, Jaruska), I was skeptical. Then I did it.  Honestly, I can only share my current interpretation of this step because I can’t remember the exact process she shared!

Pick an amount of time, I recommend 30 minutes. Choose a memento or two, maybe a photo of your loved one.  Spend time alone with those, remembering the one you lost. Try to do this at the same time every day. Make an appointment with yourself, and keep it. Cry, talk, and if you’re like me, write. Wallow in your grief. When your 30 minutes are up, move on for the day. Don’t worry, you’ll be back tomorrow. Repeat for 30 days. Trust me, you’ll be in a better place at the end.

My Example(s): My brother Ed died when my oldest daughter was just a few months old. He was a guy who loved to laugh and loved to make others laugh. However, my last conversation with him was not laugh filled. He chewed me out and bossed me around like he had never done before. He gave me a list of things he did not want me to do, and another of things I had better do! My happy-go-lucky brother was angry, with me.

It wasn’t until many years later, as I sat with my grief, I realized how much that conversation upset me. I felt so cheated that our last talk held no laughter. I wrote and worked through it all over the course of the month. Now, my memories of Ed are not tinged with hurt.

The time I spent grieving Mom was very different. I held her rosary and cried for all 45 minutes for the first 10 days. (Yes, I gave myself more time, and more days.) Then I spent a long time telling Mom everything I never shared, even more time apologizing, and finally, many, many days in gratitude.

Step 4: Remember with Others

Stop avoiding the subject. When your loved one comes up in conversation, join in! Share a funny memory. Laugh about the best times. Talk about the rest. If their name doesn’t come up, bring it up! If you need a group, invite people over. If there is no one to invite, share on social media.

My Example: My eldest brother Ray died a month before my sixth birthday. Because of my age, I had very few clear memories of him. I felt I did not know him well.

So, why was there still such pain and grief? Five-year-old me heard of his death on the radio! (Small town America in the late 1960s!) No one else knew. And to make matters worse, he and my father shared a first name. As I sat on the porch that hot summer day, I did not know who had died in the car accident, my brother or my daddy.

For many years, I could not think of my brother without reliving that moment. After spending the time, I began talking to family and friends about Ray. I came to know him better as a person. I retrieved several memories that were hidden behind the trauma. I found my brother again.

Step 5: Honor Them with What You Do and Who You Are.

Consider the human who is no longer with you. What did they love to do? How did they treat others? What made them someone who is missed? Then consider your life. What do you have in common? How can you honor them with your life? This sounds complicated, but it really isn’t.

My Example(s):

My dad worked hard all his life. He did not give up at anything. When he didn’t understand something, he studied it. When faced with a tough challenge, I honor my father by not giving up.

My brother Jack loved to play devil’s advocate in any discussion. His joy in this was palpable. I honor my brother by constantly seeking to understand multiple viewpoints.

My mother lived her faith. For many years, she volunteered at her church, making and distributing sandwiches to the homeless. My mother helped where she could. I honor my mother as I knit for charity, as I practice my own faith, and as I help where I can.

Step 6: Repeat as Needed

There are no rules here. Mix it all up. Do it in any order. Make it your process. Lather, rinse, repeat…

And there you have it. My thoughts. If any of it helps, I am thankful. Please remember, I see you. I love you. I am you. I am here.

All I hope for you is to someday float. Float in the calm seas. That’s when you’ll know… perhaps it isn’t a sea of grief… perhaps it is an ocean of shared love keeping you afloat.