Toughest grief
If you polled 100 people and asked them, “What is the hardest death to overcome?” most likely number one on the list would be the death of your child. It’s the worst of the worst. And any parent who has been through it doesn’t need to be told that it’s the toughest grief to face.
What I needed, and what most bereaved parents need and long for when their world has been shattered, is hope. Hope that we will be able to feel whole again, that we will experience joy and be able to laugh.
No need for hopelessness
What we don’t need is a visit from the Grief Grinch. The Grief Grinch may be another bereaved parent or someone who has experienced the loss of a loved one and feels victimized. They see life as unfair, and believe this death shouldn’t have happened. They will pass their beliefs unwittingly along to others who have aligned with the helpless path of “Why me? Life sucks. There’s no hope.”
The following lines are direct quotes from mourning parents who are offering their “wisdom” to the newly bereaved. See if you spot the Grinch.
“I’m not going to lie to you, it will never be okay. It will never become easy. The sorrow will never lessen. Colors will never be as vivid as they once were. Time will never be your friend. Each new season brings sadness now.”
“We and other bereaved parents are hermetically sealed off from the rest of the world. We are not going to get over this. We are not going to be the same. We are all in a world of our own. This should never have happened to us!!!”
“The hurt, emptiness, and pain doesn’t go away—I have just learned to put on a mask and do what I must. I laugh, but I will never feel joy again. Even though I am surrounded by people who love me, I find myself waiting for my time to be reunited with my boys.”
“While I’m FOREVER broken in ways most people will never comprehend, I’ve learned to live with a gaping hole in my heart. I don’t expect to get better. I’ve accepted that I am what I am—broken, but happy.”
“I’m beaten and my faith is exhausted. I’m angry with God. I wish something could help pull me back up. Going on four years and it still feels like yesterday.”
Two possible paths
Since the death of my youngest son in 2013, I’ve noticed grieving parents set off on one or the other of two paths. They might change course at some point, and move in the other direction, but here’s what I have seen. Either they feel like life has betrayed them, and are woefully asking, “Why me?” Or, they realize that life is neutral, not out to get them, and this thing called death landed in the middle of their life. Their approach is, “I can’t change it. What’s possible going forward?”
We have choices
I recognized within the first few hours of my grief journey that I had choices to make about how I was going to allow grief into my life. I couldn’t block it, deny it, or pretend death hadn’t robbed me of my precious son—but I did realize I had a whole lot to say about what I would pay attention to, the words I would use, the path I would take. The Grief Grinch stopped by to visit more than once, but I left him standing on the doorstep, refusing him entry into my heart and my thoughts.
Often people just don’t know what to say. Or, in their attempt to be comforting, they may not realize that words predicting terrible outcomes are not helpful. When I was confronted with these dire forecasts, I would silently say to myself, “That may have been true for you, but it’s not what I believe will happen. I’m choosing to find the good in this unspeakable sorrow. I’m choosing to let it grow and expand my broken-open heart. I’m choosing life.” It kept their words from growing roots in my thoughts.
Hard-Wiring
Human beings are hard-wired towards paying attention to the negative. It’s called a negativity bias. Thank you to our caveman ancestors, our brains are built to be more highly attuned to the negative as a means of self-preservation.
But humans are also hard-wired for compassion, hope, and love. Our ability to choose a path leading in the opposite direction of victimhood—even when we have no idea what lies ahead—can make all the difference.
We don’t need to deny our pain, pretend our hearts aren’t aching, or paste a false smile upon our face. It’s not about saying it’s all good when obviously it’s not. We just need to be willing to consider the questions, “What now? What possible good could come from this? How do I use this grief to grow?”
Hope heals
Hope literally shifts your brain’s chemistry and releases healing hormones of dopamine and oxytocin into your system. When you begin looking for hope, you will tune into those encouraging voices, the ones letting you know that life will be sweet again. Colors might even seem more vivid because you’ve come to realize how very precious this life is. Gratitude may find her way into your daily prayers as you notice that the love you shared with your child still lives on.
Stories can be rewritten
As it turns out, the Grinch was transformed when he realized that, even after he and his crew successfully stole all of the things of Christmas, they couldn’t steal the people’s joy. The Whos found joy in just being with each other.
Refuse to entertain visits from any and all Grief Grinches. Begin creating a story of resilience and hope. No matter how grim, your story can be rewritten by love and compassion, gratitude, hope, and a willingness to dwell in the question, “What’s possible?”
Help is available. If you would like to help yourself, or someone you love, move beyond whatever may be blocking joy and peace of mind, please download, as a starting point, Honoring and Treasuring the Memories from my website www.grieftograce.com. If you’d rather contact me personally, feel free to send an email to robyn@grieftograce.com and I’ll personally get back with you, ASAP.