) June 22, 2022)
friend who lost her mother recently and I, now 22 months into widowhood, were just talking about this very aspect of grief last night. The experience of and lesson of such “emotional ambushes,” as I have called them, is very true. It does demand that one “move over on the swing” or remember grief’s “stone in the pocket” that the survivor carries. It will never let you forget that it is still there. Some other things will have to be delayed or discarded while your heart continues to enlarge its space to allow this absent loved one to continue there while other persons, experiences, and joys crowd in, too. New ways of doing some things will have to be found because the person who used to bear his or her own self’s laughter and countenance and heart’s treasures alongside yours in life are now carried etched in your own heart and mind alone, if they will continue to be loved and remembered by you. From time to time the memory of their spirit, soul, and body stirs in your spirit and the absence of them in the physical still hurts, even as the memory in the spirit brings comfort. Life is like that, a curious mix of pain and comfort, suffering and joy, in the moment while you are transported by the memories of the past, your mind apparently trying to be in both times and places at once, while your body struggles to endure such a duality. Learning to balance your own sense of self and the memories of the absent other takes time and practice. But if you loved them then and continue to love them now, then you make space for them to join your consciousness, even when their choice to do so catches you by surprise and interrupts the present moment’s agenda. We have to learn to be gentle with ourself and with the memory of the loved one that we carry.
By Charlotte Donlon- June 22, 2022:
I just shared a bit about my biggest grief lesson in a comment on a friend’s FB post. Her brother (who was also a childhood and college friend of mine) died recently. I’m so sad about his death and can only imagine the weight of the grief his family is carrying.
I’ll share about my biggest grief lesson here, too, in case it will help or encourage others in some way.
My biggest grief lesson over the past couple of years since my dad died has been to make enough space and margin in my life to allow for the sudden waves of grief that will come out of nowhere.
The grief comes, I feel it, I weep, sometimes I scream and cuss, then I return to what I was doing before the grief wave arrived. Or I take a nap because the whole thing is exhausting at times.
But the main thing has been for me to have more realistic expectations about how much I can do in a day or a week. I have given myself freedom to not do a lot of things I could do. I have pulled away from some relationships. I sometimes take more time responding to emails or texts. I feel less obligated to people and things and events that really require no obligation from me.
Navigating grief can be difficult. But it does become easier with time if you don’t fight it and let it form you and guide you toward more restfulness overall.
Okay. I’ll stop there. I hope that makes sense.
If you want to share your grief lessons in the comments, I’d love to read them.
Much love to everyone who’s grieving for whatever reason.