A year of grief and mourning

A year of grief and mourning*, what I’ve learned.

“…grief is the emotional reaction/response to loss, mourning is the process one undertakes to deal with the void that is now left. http://griefandmourning.com/grief-and-mourning-distinguished

“Grief is what you think and feel inside when someone you loves dies. It’s the numbness, sadness, anger, regret, all rolled up into one. It’s the pain in your gut and a hole in your chest.” http://www.pastoralcareinc.com/counseling/difference-between-grief-mourning/

“Grief is the constellation of internal thoughts and feelings we have when someone we love dies. Mourning is when you take the grief you have on the inside and express it outside of yourself. “ Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

In no particular order:
1. I learned I had to forgive myself over and over again for things I did, and for things I didn’t or couldn’t do. Especially at the end, seeing him hurting and not being able to do anything. Telling myself I should have known or could have done better.
I had to confront that part of me that thinks I should be perfect, that I can control everything, that being human is optional.

2. I’m still learning to get used to the void, the space he filled with his just being there, e.g., the long evenings alone, the drives without him by my side…
I’ve become conscious of the temptation to numb out with food/drink, with buying things, or just with staying busy so I don’t have to feel.

3. I was surprised at how incredibly vulnerable I can feel as I learn to do the things I depended on him for: getting a new garage door or finding a electrician. People kindly reminded me that there are those who will take advantage of widows/single women. Everything can seem suddenly overwhelming and scary. I’m learning to do things anyway.

4. I’m continuing to discover who I am without the title and roles of wife, mother, caretaker, partner. The questions of “What do I want?” or “How do I want to live?” don’t have easy, quick answers. I’m learning patience.

5. Learning what counts: I felt guilty getting rid of the things he used his whole life, the things he loved and spent time and energy on: his music, books, furniture. I had to remember he was not his things, and I’m learning I’m not mine.

6. Learning not-knowing: I still wonder if the things we did together, the camping, riding bikes, traveling back roads, will ever be a part of my life again. Will I do them alone? Find a group ? Or, will they too be another loss?

7. I learned there are dry periods where nothing seems interesting, where crowds are a burden. I learned to accept sometimes I just don’t have the energy to engage outside myself.

8.I found out how much his support and belief in me carried me along. I’ve had to deal with all the old messages that “being me” wasn’t enough. I thought I had conquered these old messages. It was humbling to see the way they roared to life again.

But as the old fears of separation, rejection, not being good enough surfaced over and over again, I learned to be with them. To stop telling stories about them (you know the kind: how you grew up, the hurts along the way…) and just let them pass through. Acceptance has freed me to experience life as it is, learning that this moment is all I will ever have.

9. And most importantly, I’ve learned that the love I had with Joseph is still with me. I’m coming to believe our love (as is everyone’s) was a reflection of God’s love that resides in each of us. It’s about learning to go inside and connect, to know you really aren’t ever alone.

A year, a milestone, not an ending.

*This post focuses on my grieving for my husband Joseph (5/22/2017), but many of these experiences were a part of my grieving for my daughter Kelly (5/12/2016). You don’t go through grief just once. Every loss has it’s own time and process. It comes and goes. Lasts as long as it does.