Hello World!
Last year on June 30th, I lost my sister unexpectedly. Thirty days later I lost my dad to cancer.
In December of that same year, my husband lost his mom and dad nineteen days apart. They’ve been my family for over forty years.
My sister and dad were two completely different types of death, two different kinds of grief, and all of these deaths were too close together to grieve each one in the way they deserved. But as time has passed, I’ve been able to grieve them individually.
With a lump in my throat, I search for words that will send love, support, and encouragement to all who are grieving, have grieved, and to those who will one day.
It’s a universal human experience and we will all know it intimately.
I begin my letter to you with this… I don’t believe there is a “grief expert” who can tell us how to navigate this very personal experience. However, I do think that sharing how we feel with others who are also grieving can be helpful.
My recent experience has taught me that we all accept, process, and learn how to live with loss in our own time.
That there is no right or wrong way to do it. That we all need to be free to experience grief in whatever way helps us move with it.
Note: we do not get over it or move through it. There’s no other side.
We move with it. It changes, we change, and we move together – us and grief. But it’s okay if you don’t move for a while. If you need to stay still for a little bit. I did.
Nobody can advise you on what to do, how to feel, or where you should be in your experience so don’t ever feel like you “should be” …. (fill in the blank)
It’s all up to you and these things will happen just as they should. We can see this when we lose a family member and notice how each person grieves in their own way and in their own time.
It’s so important to respect and support that. To give each person the time and space they need without question.
Someone once told me that, “grief is as unique as our fingerprint and no two people will experience it the same”.
I’m so happy to share that with you because it gave me so much comfort in my early grief and continues to do so.
It’s been a little over a year now, and I’m still grieving my family although the heaviness of it has lifted.
The pain and sadness are much lighter now, even though it feels deeper if that makes sense.
At first, everything was so heavy and on the outside. The memories were of death. The tears were falling whenever I spoke of them.
But as time passed, I began tucking pieces of the good memories inside for safekeeping and could speak of them without tears.
Sometimes, the memories will show up randomly and I smile because I’m so grateful for them. For the love we shared.
And now when I cry, my tears feel more like soft rain – not a raging storm.
As I sign off, I will leave you with this… even though it feels like you are not supposed to be happy or you shouldn’t laugh because they don’t get to anymore, even though it feels like you don’t know how to be in the world without them – like you no longer know who you are or what you want to do, things will get better.
They will never be the same, but they will get better. You will learn how to navigate life without them physically present. They will still be with you but in a new and different way. They never really leave you all the way.
You’ll see, I promise.
Love,