Journey Through Grief

Someone, recently, asked me, “So what is grief, anyway?”

All definitions that came to mind failed miserably to describe the process of grief. Grief is a journey through a sea of crashing waves. There are waves of sadness, anger, disbelief, acceptance, anxiety, hoping that you’re wrong and asking God to change it, but these waves crash, relentlessly.

In Ocracoke on vacation a couple of years ago, an ocean wave slammed against me. The cold brutal water stung my face and took my breath away. Yes, I have been swimming in the ocean since I was a little girl, but waves can be powerful.

Grief in some ways is kinder than the ocean. The ocean within seconds repeats, but grief waves are different.

With the news of my dearest friend, my husband’s, departure from Earth and residency in Heaven, the wave took my breath. I don’t remember much of those initial seconds, still, but my kids tell me that the police officers caught me from falling.

It was brutal.

Next came numbness, and a sense of timelessness because it is way too much for my brain to cope with.

Once I was at home, I remember looking out at the clouds. I wanted to be in the clouds, just get me out of this nightmare. I don’t know how long I stood there until I realized that I had to tell other people. No one knew. My kids were sitting on the couch behind me, all 4 of them.

Making some phone calls I remember hearing myself talking in this choppy way as I listened to myself speak. I felt as though I was standing beside of myself, listening. This is trauma.

My amazing friends and family showed up. I believe that there were a couple of hundred people who walked through my door in the next two days. They let me talk, and that was so helpful. In fact incredibly helpful.

If you have a friend experiencing tragedy and you show up, don’t worry about what to say, just be willing to listen. Cry if you need to. I promise they won’t mind. They have cried until tears are gone, and they will appreciate the heartfelt care that you are feeling. But most importantly, be willing to listen.

Grief is messy.

If you have heard of the stages of grief, yes that’s a real thing, but grief doesn’t come in steps, which neatly follow each other. No. It’s a ball of messy wound yarn with pieces of debris in it.

That first afternoon brought sadness, fear, acceptance, disbelief, numbness, and then those wave cam again and again. I say that grief is kind because it brings with it numbing, but you have to surrender to the negative emotions as they come to receive that numbing.

Numbing yourself will not help. It will just prolong the agony.

When swimming in the ocean, one must let the waves move you where they want. If you fight the waves then you will wear yourself out, and in a riptide like grief you may drown if you don’t move with the rhythms of the ocean.

The good news is that if you move with the waves then eventually you will get to a place where you loose track of time as you let wave after wave pick your body up and drop it down.

Grief is like that. It takes your whole being to grieve.

When you feel sad, let the wave carry you to cry.

Feel the sadness, float up with the strength of the wave, but know that eventually the wave will subside, and you will come back down to where you can feel the sand under your feet. Or a crab if you are unlucky.

People came, and the funeral took place.

Wave two. Crash!

For me, it was a Monday morning. I was standing in the doorway of our kitchen looking through the windows at the clouds. Yes, the clouds were a theme throughout this experience. If you know me or my children, ask us. We are glad to share about the clouds.

What in the world do I do now? My life had in a large way revolved around our business, his coming and going throughout the days, his schedule, his customers and our children.

I wish that I could say that I found 10 easy steps to rebuild life, but they don’t exist. I had no idea what to do or where to turn for advice. I was the only 40 year old “widow” (ugh, that word) that I knew.

But God knew. I remember leaning against the doorway and asking Him for help. Everyone had left, and I was alone.

“God help!” is enough.

Psalm 34:18, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

You may feel angry at God. If you do, please know that He understands your heart, and you may as well acknowledge that anger because He sees our hearts and already knows that it is there. And if some pious, judgmental individual gives their opinion that this should never be spoken, ignore them.

He knows! He already knows! And here is the thing, He still loves you. And He is closer than you realize. Talk to Him. He will show up.

Believe me because I know Him well, and I know that He will do whatever it takes to let you know that He is there, especially when you are broken.

Yes, I was broken and if you are like me you will feel crushed, but if you ask Him, He will bring you peace.

My kids and I began to build a pattern that went like this. When we were sad, we cried. Then when we were finished crying, we prayed and asked Him to give us peace. It was unbelievable how in just seconds, peace would fill our world, and we could move forward.

Yes, it was a long and hard process.

Yes, wave number 3 crashed, and wave 1,568, 987 as well,

but each time,

no matter what the emotion that came,

He showed up.

Rest assured that the waves will get further apart, eventually, and they will become less intense. I have had widows tell me that they did fine the first year, but the second year, was tough.

The firsts can be hard. You know what I mean the first Christmas, birthday, anniversary, summer, and the list can go on. Plan for those days. It makes them easier.

For our family, sometimes we have chosen to do something completely different than before, but we have also chosen to keep things similar.

I know you want to figure out life and find security in traditions. Well, security sounds good in anything because life feels like it is coming apart at the seams.

But the truth is, it is going to take some time to know what you want to keep and what you want to throw out. Somethings, I have decided to not continue only to find that we miss that, so we add it back in.

Be kind to yourself. It is going to take some time to figure it all out, but you will eventually.

Change what you need to change, but if you have kids make sure that they have pictures and conversations with you so that they can keep the memories that are important to them.

It will be 10 years on July 7th that my husband took his place in Heaven. I remember the sheer terror of thinking about 10 years without him.

Here are some things that I know, now, but I didn’t know then.

• I am much stronger than I thought I was.

• It has been a journey of goodness and difficulty, but

• I love who I am becoming, and

• he would love this different me.

• God loves me more than I ever understood before this journey began.

• The lessons that He has taught me are mind blowing, really.

• He is an amazing husband to the widow and

• An incredible father to the fatherless, if you will let Him be that.

Those first days, I kept repeating,

“Trust in the Lord with all of your heart.”

Proverbs 3:5a.

I couldn’t remember any more than that, but that was enough.

He has good plans for you. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but He does.

If you’re grieving and would like support,

I offer individual and group counseling.

Don’t hesitate.

Pick up your phone and call me. I will be happy to talk with you, learn more about you, and determine with you if I am the best person to help you as you walk the grief journey.

My number is (302) 270-8503.

I will look forward to hearing from you.