Dealing with death and the grief that follows is a part of life. It’s an inescapable fact that at some point, someone or something you love will die. The only way to escape it is if you never develop an emotional attachment to anything, but sometimes I think that’s somehow harder.
A wise friend just told me that “everyone grieves differently and the grief is not the same for every death”. There are a million moving parts to our lives and everyone and everything has its place. Where that someone fits in will often be the indicator of the grief and even of the guilt you will feel afterwards.
I lost my grandmother this year. It hit me harder than when I lost my grandfather several years ago and certainly more than some of the more distant relatives. Perhaps it was because I had started to play a greater role in caring for her, running errands and helping with tasks around the house as her health started rapidly failing. Maybe it had to do with the murder of a young man, my best friend’s nephew who I’d know since he was born, that occurred a few months prior.
His death had spurred in me a desire to follow my passions. Life was short, you just didn’t know how short it could be. He hadn’t even graduated high school when he was killed. All that wasted potential, those lives never lived. And looking at my own life, I realized that in a way, I was wasting my life while waiting for some cosmic stars to align before I leapt into action.
A wise friend just told me that “everyone grieves differently and the grief is not the same for every death”.
My grandmother’s loss left me feeling a new appreciation for growing old and the need to build ties. A small nudge from my friend and suddenly I thought, perhaps human children might be on the horizon as I filled out the paperwork to be approved for adoption.The giddy anticipation sharing stories and life lessons over movie nights and crafts, just like Mimi did with us.
But the death that has hit me the hardest, shredded any desire to plan for one day more, the loss of my beloved dog just 2 days post Christmas. It seems silly and out of proportion to some, only a dog. Others understand. They know her place in my life was not just a small role on the sidelines, but center stage. A dog can be as integral a piece as a child when you recognize that their lives are yours. They wake up with you, you feed them every meal with treats in between, play time and potty time and bath time as they depend on you to thrive. At the end of the day, you curl up with them for bed and trust them to protect you as you protect them.
Sure, my furry baby never learned to “speak” in human words and she was never going to go to college and get a job. She’d always be like a toddler, but she loved me. She gave me an unconditional love and support. I gave her food and hugs and kisses and toys galore. I don’t know that life has ever looked so bleak now that it’s without her. It’s a struggle to get out of bed, food is like ash in my mouth and I find that everything around me leaves me…uncomfortable. Even the things I took joy in leave me breathlessly overwhelmed and uncharacteristically resentful.
The closer death strikes to your heart, the harder it is to pull yourself from the brink. I can’t, and won’t, tell you that it gets easier or that the pain will fade because maybe for you, it will never leave. There’s always a possibility that you will never again enjoy what you did before, that the music won’t sound the same or the passions that drove you even mean anything anymore. Life long dreams could start a panic with how incredibly useless they seem now.
I won’t give you the spiel that God has a plan that we can’t understand, tough times brought on by by the mighty strength He sees in you and as a way to break you down till you submit to Him completely so He can fix it for you and bring you to a beautiful Heaven, here is every seemingly sympathetic and inspirational scripture reference as to why your life has to suck so badly right now. Quite frankly, that’s always sounded a bit abusive and meaningless if you ask me. I mean, if you love something, why would you torture it? To make it love and depend on you more?! That’s grade ‘A’ Stockholm Syndrome right there.
Still, you have to pick yourself up from the bed, remember to breathe, take a few bites even if it’s just bread and down at least a quarter of a glass of water. I know the world is blurry and gray, you’re empty inside and everything seems pointless. That’s okay. People seem heartless and every smile they give you a mockery of your pain. It’s understandable if you feel this way. Find and fixate on one little point, something to make as a goal to live to. Then another and another. It’s so tedious to look at when you’re in the moment, so don’t. Set small goals. Just gotta make it to this holiday, to this event, a release date, whatever. When you reach that, come up with another. Even if you don’t have anyone or anywhere that you feel you can turn to; no one who sees or listens or cares. Don’t ever worry that Death has forgotten you, He’ll swing back around eventually. Maybe just to tell you “hi” or maybe to tell you “it’s time”.
