Living and Coping with Grief

Inspired by the tragic loss of 37 year-old Alex.  Gone but never forgotten.

It’s a somber day for me.  I spent most of the afternoon in tears. I can’t recall when I’ve cried this much but grief will do that to you. I’m still teary as I write this.

Death is one of those taboo topics that virtually no one wants to think about, talk about, experience, or get real with- and yet it’s ubiquitous.  It happens to those we love, and eventually it happens to us.

Most people really suck at talking about it openly; sharing our fears, or even acknowledging it when it’s pending…

And yet, there are times when we can’t ignore it.  We can’t ignore it when it happens to someone we know and love.  We can’t ignore it if/when we are the one faced with a diagnosis that our clock is ticking closer to our expiration date.

And when death comes knocking, especially without warning- when it wreaks its finality on the unsuspecting- it creates emotions and a depth of grief we didn’t know was possible.

Death and dying have been on my mind a lot lately. My dad in the hospital with serious issues…A niece battling breast cancer... Finding out Alex has passed.

As I’ve faced the uncertainty of my dad in the hospital for weeks, not knowing if he was coming out, I’ve had to face the possibility that he wouldn’t.  I visited him every day I was able.  Seeing  there was no privacy with medical staff in and out, I decided to write him a letter.  It spoke to gratitude for him “stepping up” (he’s technically my step-father).  And I spoke of death. No matter the outcome, I wanted to normalize that we can talk about this.  

Today was completely different then wondering when someone you love will no longer be here.

Today was the knowing that someone you have known – that became an extension of your family- IS no longer with us.  That is agonizing. 

 When you knew someone when they were still a teenager and young adult, when they played such a significant role in your own child’s life ( my oldest daughters high school best friend) and you see that they have been taken too soon, it stirs up the kind of sadness you don’t wish on anyone.

The blessings of course, was getting to see her parents again.  We’d not seen each other in quite some time.  At her Celebration of Life, I got to hear what this precious young woman’s life had become through the stories of so many she had touched.  Joy and sorrow.  Tears and laughter.

My hope in writing this, is that we all take a pause to reflect.

To appreciate who and what we have.

To not take anyone in our world for granted.

To look at what we complain about and hold that up to the blessings we do have.

To love deeply, profoundly and loudly- sharing our joy and letting the people we love know that we see them and love them unconditionally.

Additionally, I hope to inspire that the stages of grief; shock, denial, bargaining, sadness,  anger, more sadness …until eventually we get to acceptance, are not on a one size fits all timeline.  And these stages are not linear.  We don’t just go through one stage and then cleanly on to the next.

Grief is messy.

On its own timeline.

Untimely and inconvenient.

It’s persistent and profound. 

It ignites the depth of human emotion.

These experiences have also caused me to pause and consider the life cycle we humans experience.  We come from microscopic cells that unite and divide.  That in and of itself is so miraculous and mysterious.  How could a heart, a liver, ears, eyes etc. come out of microscopic cells… but that is the humble, phenomenal origin story for us all.

And in the end, we return to the earth.  We may have our body buried deep below the surface, or our physical body – the place we no longer inhabit after death- may be reduced to ashes.  A radical transformation of what was an earthly being – one whose life mattered…  who talked, ate, played, perhaps prayed, worked and touched people’s lives.

I take comfort in believing that the human spirit moves on once the body is no longer living.

I take comfort that our spirit is in a better place, and that we are reunited with those who have gone before us. I pray that those who loved Alex find that comfort as well.

As I close out my thoughts, my eyes and head heavy with the mind fog of grief, I am choosing gratitude.  Gratitude for Alex, who touched my daughter’s life and our family with her creativity, humor, adventurous spirit and wit.

And I’m grateful that good can come out of the most profound challenges and tragedies, if we only pause to notice and see it. 

For those of you reading that are actively grieving: I hope you are pouring compassion onto and into yourself daily.  You won’t be on anyone else’s timeline so ignore the well intentioned comments of “You should be able to move on by now”  or my all time favorite, “time heals all”, that come from people who don’t know squat about grief.

Additionally, I wrote this poem to provide some speck of comfort to Alex’s parents.  Perhaps it may offer a smidgen of comfort for you as well-  substitute your loved one’s name.

An angel she was, and always will be

Taken from us and completely set free

Her spirit can soar now  

In ways we can’t see

To understand this would not take away

The enormous pain

You feel now and today

I only know, hope and pray,

you will find peace knowing you’ll see her one day…

For Alex’s spirit

So sweet and so strong

Will not fade away

Though her body is gone

She would want you to celebrate and be so very glad

For the beautiful memories and times that you had

It’s sad but so true

We’re all here for a blink

It’s never as long as

We hope or we think

And when those we love

Leave us too soon

We’re angry and sad-

We might even scream

Wishing this nightmare was only a dream

So, take your time to love, cry and grieve

Knowing Alex’s angel is there on your sleeve

I trust that she’ll whisper

Each day, she’s still here

She’ll hold your heart

And you’ll keep her near

She’d say if she could

To feel this great pain

And then wait for the moment-

A ray of sunshine again.