Thoughts on Grief
Last weekend, my brother-in-law was in town for a men’s retreat he and my husband attend with a handful of other guys every year. The night before they headed to their lodge in the mountains, we were sitting in our living room catching up and talking about various things. The topic of grief came up during our conversation, and my husband and I were asked if we felt that we truly and fully grieved the loss of my mom. My brother-in-law expressed his observation that maybe we hadn’t given ourselves the space to really experience that loss, and honestly, I couldn’t fully disagree at first. It has been a year and a half since my mom passed away of uterine cancer, and this late night conversation in our small apartment living room made me sit and actually consider how I’d grieved. Had I made space to be sad? Had I had a good cry about the loss of my mom? Had I approached grief in any intentional way?
I appreciated the question and observation. There was absolutely no offense taken. I needed to reflect on this past season of losing one of the most important and influential people in my life. And as I thought about it, I realized that I hadn’t really had one identifiable, big moment of expected grief since the loss of my mom. I’ve missed her. I’ve talked probably hundreds of times to my oldest son about eternity and how it doesn’t seem fair that she died at such a seemingly young age. I’ve visited the cemetery probably more than most people in my family to make sure her grave was marked and remembered before her headstone was put in. But have I fully grieved? It’s hard to say.
So as my husband and his brother went to their retreat, and I had some time to myself over the weekend, I pondered this question about grieving and took an honest look at my personal response to such an immense and life changing loss.
At first, I got really down on myself. In all transparency, I haven’t had a huge cry or massive breakdown since my mom died. I’ve cried some, but I haven’t wept over the loss like I expected to which has surprised me. Grief has looked nothing like I thought it would. So I thought to myself, “What’s wrong with me? Why am I not grieving right?”. It feels shameful to admit that I haven’t wept over the loss of my mom since her passing. She was such an amazing mother and person, and it’s not like she didn’t matter to me. She was one of the closest relationships I’ve had in this life, so it doesn’t make sense to not weep over her. Isn’t that what people do when they lose someone they love? Isn’t that one of the most expected expressions of grief?
But the truth is, sobbing has not been something I’ve been able to experience over the past year and a half. It’s not that I’ve actively avoided it. I just haven’t responded that way to the loss of my mom. But does that mean that I haven’t made space to fully grieve?
The longer I thought about it, the more I was able to acknowledge the ways I HAVE leaned into the grieving process. Maybe I haven’t had this massive cry yet. Maybe I just don’t respond the way that other people do to the death of a believer. But I have done many intentional things to honor and remember the life of my mom and think about the impact she had in my life. I fairly regularly visit her grave and arrange seasonal cemetery flowers. I journal letters to her or about this season of processing her absence. I buy a cake and do some of her favorite things in honor of her birthday. I look at pictures of her and make sure my sons have photos that they can bring out whenever they’re missing her. I softly cry during worship as I imagine her next to me. I smile as I envision her whole and healed in the presence of her Savior. I talk about her with others. I see a therapist to have someone extra to talk to. I’ve read books about heaven and watched documentaries of people who have had near death experiences. If I actually look at all the ways I’ve tried to grieve so far, I realize that I HAVE been incredibly intentional and present with it all.
I think I’ve just come to believe that grieving isn’t marked by one big moment or weekend away to weep. I don’t think that it’s bad to set aside time for the purpose of mourning. But as time continues forward, I find that I believe grief happens over a lifetime in various forms and expressions. Maybe in some seasons, it’s in shedding tears. In others, maybe it’s in celebratory traditions. In others, it could be laughing at memories.
Grief is a universal experience in the sense that everyone grieves over something at some point in life. It’s simply part of being human and completely unavoidable. But grief is also a very individual and unique experience in the sense that each person may walk through it differently and at different paces. There is no “right” way to grieve. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to grief. There are many expressions of grief, and that’s okay.
So I suppose this can serve as an encouragement and reminder to those of you in a season of loss that you’re not grieving “wrong” if you haven’t been able to weep. You’re also not grieving “wrong” if you’re still brought to tears years or even decades after a loss. There is no shame in expressing your grief authentically in whatever season of life you’re in and no matter how long ago the loss was. Be free to walk through loss in whatever ways feel honoring, healing, and real to you even if that looks different from those around you. Grief isn’t a step by step process. It’s simply part of being human and alive. And do we ever FULLY and completely grieve something to the extent that we’re able to stop grieving? I don’t think so. Grief is ongoing although it may change forms over time. So give yourself the grace to be present with your grief without shame or expectations. The waves will come as they’re meant to, and you’ll ride them the best way you can.
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