Skip to main content

Not all grief is the same

I am faced each day with different stories of death and grief. A lot of times people tell me they know how I feel because they faced a loss. I question that, a lot. When people tell me of the death of a loved one, I tell them I don't know their grief, but I do know grief. Because not all grief is the same.

How do you quantify a level of grief? Is my grief the same as someone who lost a parent or sibling or spouse? I don't know. Sometimes it seems like there are clubs. Someone who lost a sibling club. Someone who lost a spouse club. Someone who lost a parent club. Someone who lost a child club. But what about within those clubs? Is someone's grief the same that lost a spouse and was married for 3 years versus 30 years? What about a young child that loses an infant sibling versus a grown up losing a grown sibling? What about someone that lost a child that was 2 years old versus 30 years old? I don't know their grief, but I do know grief.

Within those clubs, we all grieve differently too. I've watched a woman that lost her husband completely ruin her life with alcohol but another woman changed her life for the good. Through my process, I've watched a grieving mother lean on her faith and love of God. I've dealt with my grief through self care. Drastic haircuts, manicures and pedicures, and massage (thank you to a beautiful woman for that gift!!) have all helped me in my grieving while my husband hasn't shaved and can't stand the thought of getting a hair cut. I've watched someone very close to me lose their father and they bottled up all their grief and many years later, they aren't happy. But I've seen someone else lose a mother and grieve while moving forward in life. Why do we do that? Is there a proper way to grieve?

I spoke to my grandmother this weekend. She is part of the reason I don't cry often. "If you aren't hurt, then don't cry" was drilled into my head at a young age. I appreciate that lesson. It has helped me so much in the real world. She asked me how I was doing and I told her that I was guilty of bottling up my grief and then letting it all out at once in giant meltdowns and that some days were really hard to function. She told me that while it is okay to grieve, I still have a husband and little boys that need me to be present. And I realized that I had checked out a little. Keeping my boys at arms length and not talking about my feelings with my husband and just going through the motions of life. That doesn't seem to be a productive way to grieve. But is there a productive way?

Some drink, some pray, some grieve loudly while others grieve silently. Because not all grief is the same. I don't know your grief, but boy do I know grief.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Harsh Truth

In thirteen days, it will mark 4 years since Catherine died. How it can seem like it happened both yesterday and a lifetime ago continues to puzzle me. Four years later and I still struggle with accepting that it wasn’t my fault and that while I want to believe that I could save her, I’ve learned that I’m just not that powerful.  With this terrible milestone approaching, I sit here angry and doing everything in my power to not rage at parents that are spitting in the face of science and the experts that are desperately trying to save lives all because they believe they know what is best for their child. Sure, as parents we believe we know what is right for our children but we also rely on doctors, scientists, and research to ensure we are making the right decision. We are currently faced with a pandemic that went from affecting the older population and those with underlying health conditions a year ago to now affecting our children. I still see the same people saying that it is jus...

The Chain

One of Catherine's favorite songs was "The Chain" by Ingrid Michaelson. I printed off the music for the piano and I learned to play it and then she would sing. Her voice always amazed me. At some point she taught herself the piano part and recorded herself singing and playing that lovely song. I didn't find the video until after she died. I've watched it numerous times. Since her death, things that used to bring me joy, don't bring me joy anymore. I'm not able to read for pleasure.  Music is a hard one too. For those of you that don't know, I play the piano and flute. We played together a lot. Catherine and I bonded over music. We shared our favorite songs. Listening to the radio is scary because I'm fearful that one of our songs will play. So I listen to NPR instead. When the detective questioned us about Catherine that morning, he did it in the dining room while I was surrounded by all my sewing stuff. So now the idea of sewing brings me dread....

Welcome to Grief

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything on my blog. Nothing really seemed important enough to take the time to sit and write. But in light of recent events, I’m faced with grief and the reality of it, all over again. If you aren’t familiar with my story, I suggest you start at the beginning of this blog. I’m not an expert on grief but I’m way too familiar with it. The definition of grief varies but Merriam – Webster defines it as (a) deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement; (b) a cause of such suffering. Notice how it isn’t specific to death? That’s because grief is something we experience when we lose someone or something. I’ve noticed a wide variety of emotions and posts on social media in the last few weeks. When this COVID-19 thing started, I don’t think any of us were prepared for what was to come. With more numbers coming out regarding positive cases and unfortunate deaths, as well as mixed messages regarding social distancing and not q...