Waves of grief

The waves of grief are as unpredictable as life itself.

I sometimes stop and wonder—are people going to get tired of reading about grief? Over and over? Am I going to appear as someone who just simply cannot move forward or talk about anything else other than death?

However, the thing is, real grief really does come in waves and people who are experiencing it already know this reality. We wish it weren’t true and I’m here to remind us all that we are not alone in our pain.

Remind us that we have no control over the waves—only how we ride them out.

Grief is not steady predictable waves, but much more like crashing waves followed by small ripples and then…sometimes….a hurricane. A hurricane that you question might just take you all the way down this time. A hurricane that leaves you gasping for air as it sweeps over you and literally brings you to your knees. A hurricane that seemingly has you starting all over again, from the very beginning of your grief journey.

It’s frustrating and it, unfortunately, can often even extend an invitation for depression to stop by for a bit. Especially when you hear things like, “You are so strong,” or “You are an inspiration to others who are grieving,” when I have days where all I can think is, “awe man, I’m kind of falling apart, again, and I’m not going to help anyone when I am in a slump.” Discouraging feelings that tell me I am so far from feeling strong or inspiring. Feelings that tell me I’m really only surviving myself. Surviving my attempt to move forward.

Then I remember: people need to read about reality. People need to know their struggles are not in vain—their struggles are normal and warranted. We have enough fake fluff on social media…I think we all crave authenticity. Raw realness. Vacation pics are fun; awards day and new babies—but, mixed in there, we all have life that hit us in the face. Knocks the breath clean out of us. The stuff that we don’t necessarily post about.

Sometimes the cracks in our lives look more like craters.

We just got back from a wonderful week-long vacation at a lake house we rented. It had been a full year since we had taken any kind of vacation. This was due to my husband’s previous employer—horrific “leadership” and disgusting “values”….but I digress. I mentioned only to say that we were all really, really excited to get away. Not to mention the fact that we had found a spectacular place that would accommodate the entire family—which means our furry kiddos.

There is so much to be said about getting away where it’s quieter and you are surrounded by nature. It allows for you to slow down, to think, to reflect…It also leaves you and your conscious mind a little too much time to think.

In the wind, I swore I heard your voice. The calming water reminded me of your calm nature. The surroundings gave a sense of peace and comfort – similar to you, but also not you at the same time.

I wanted to feel completely at ease and peaceful—and for the most part I did. I was so thankful to be there with my family and precious dogs—they are really all I need in life. Us being together without work or school obligations was what we all needed. But even still, I cannot escape grief.

It’s frustrating when I have so much around me to be thankful for and to enjoy—and yet, I will break down in an instance, usually without much warning, when I pause too long thinking about your absence.

To be really honest, I get kind of ticked off at all the people who get to live longer. It makes me want to scream out, WHY!? Why them, why not my dad? Why not my son? WHY? How are they more worthy?

Right?!

I will never understand why some people are celebrating birthdays in their 90’s – likely not contributing much to society..if we are keeping it real—and yet my dad and my son—with so much life left to live, are gone.

I don’t get it—and yes…I know. I am not supposed to “get it.” But—I really want to because it makes no sense to me. It’s hard for me to smile now when I see someone post a picture of their dad’s 80^th birthday. I am mad and jealous and sad—all rolled into one prickly emotional ball just waiting to burst. Then, I feel guilty. I should just be happy for others. Right?

My aunt Nan commented recently on a post I made and mentioned how she could just imagine my dad sitting under a tree telling James stories. When I first read the comment, I cried. Then when I came across it again, I was kind of angry. Thinking like..um…we have plenty of flipping trees here on Earth that they could have hung out under, you know?

Then when I read the comment again, I felt a peace. Not a perfect peace, but more of a reassuring hope for the peace that will return.

It felt like a warm hug. A quiet and gentle reminder to be patient and have faith.

While we can’t know, exactly, what to expect when we get to Heaven—I believe there really are peaceful places where family reunites and spends …well…eternity together.

I’m just having some trouble not being jealous that I’m not there too.

So, for now, I am telling myself and suggesting to you—let’s try to be patient. Let’s try to acknowledge the amazing place where they are and how no one can EVER hurt them—not even disease or cancer…can hurt them. There is no pain and no suffering. How amazing for those we love that are no longer with us.

I know that God understands our pain and our anger. Even our (human) resentment towards those who – for reasons unknown to us – get to live until they are 100 years old.

He “gets it.”

The part I have to work on is placing my pain, anger, sadness, loneliness……. to the side, just enough, so that I can make space to acknowledge the pure and eternal joy they are experiencing at this very moment.