More on Grief

Yesterday my mom handed me an article on grief. I didn't really want to read it, but she insisted that it would be very comforting to me. So I did. And it was beautiful. It was written by a hospice nurse who has dealt with grief for over twenty years. And she beautifully describes how over the years her ability to help those grieving has totally transformed both her mind and her heart. After reading the article, I felt a huge relief. Almost as if an intangible burden had been lifted off my chest. Because for the first time since all this happened, I thought to myself, "She gets it." Grief doesn't go away in a day...so let us mourn. And with time, we will heal.
Below is an excerpt from the article.

".....Years ago, I would have rushed to comfort these people. Uncomfortable myself with

their grief, I'd want to ease their sadness with my cheer and consolation. I would hug the young woman and tell her to 'Try to get pregnant again' or I would reassure the

widower, telling him, 'Your wife had a long life.' It wasn't until I had stayed with many

dying patients, and finally, with my dying father, that I allowed myself to grieve; for my

dad, for those lost patients, for all their loved ones who, as I once did, held back their tears.

Now, years later, I know that it is both necessary and human for us to wallow, each in our

own way, in grief. I no longer comfort others with false cheer. I don't encourage anyone to

move on, to replace, to remarry, or to put the photos or the memories away. Grief must

be given its time. I believe that both caregivers and the cared for should be free to scream

and cry and fall to the floor. I believe that grief, fully expressed, will change over time

into something, less overpowering, even granting us a new understanding, a kind of double

vision that comprehends both the beauty and fragility of life at the same time. When I grieve,

when I stand by others as they grieve, even in the midst of seemingly unbearable sorrow,

grief becomes a way to honor life. A way to cling to every fleeting, precious moment of joy."

Lately I have found myself drawing inward. Turning away from my friends, because they simply don't understand. Their lives are still lovely, and it's as if they wish for me to make mine just as lovely. To move on, to forget. And yet I cannot forget. I need to grieve, to mourn her. How I wish that they would ask me, "How are you really doing?" How I wish that they would let me cry or scream or curse. I am going to have bad day, really really bad days. Don't pretend that you don't see me crying, simply hand me a Kleenex and then offer me your shoulder. I need that. Without friends, I am walking deeper and deeper into my own solitude. And it is lonely. I need to be acknowledged. My grief is real, my sorrow is huge, and my heart is broken. There are few times in one's life where friendship should cast away all the pretense, and simply embrace the souls of each other. This is one of those times, because my soul is struggling.

There is a quote by Albert Camus that is quite beautiful.

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow.

Just walk beside me and be my friend."