“Grief discriminates against no one. It is the ashes from which the phoenix rises, and the mettle of rebirth. It returns life to the living dead. It teaches that there is nothing absolutely true, or untrue. It assures the living that we know nothing for certain. It humbles. It shrouds. It blackens. It enlightens. Grief will make a new person out of you . . . ”
COVID has certainly required us to stretch and learn as we have faced losses: loss of the world as we knew it; loss of connection; loss of feeling safe; loss of jobs, income, and support services; the loss of gathering together; the loss of so many lives to death, strangers as well as loved ones. It is important to know and remember that these losses are not only individual. They are collective and must be grieved, held, acknowledged, and worked through. Why? Because grief, like exposure to the sun, can accumulate, complicating our ability to sustain the vitality needed to adapt, heal, and recover.
That we live in a death-denying culture is a major impediment to the grieving process. Francis Weller wrote a beautiful article about the importance of creating time and space for collective grieving in our communities for our health and wellbeing. (Link at bottom of post.) Weller writes,
“In this culture we display a compulsive avoidance of difficult matters and an obsession with distraction. . . . We are an ascension culture. We love rising, and we fear going down. Consequently, we find ways to deny the reality of this rich but difficult territory. . . We may cry at a wedding or when we watch a movie, but the full-throated expression of emotion is off-limits.”
If we do not acknowledge our grief, or if we rush the process, we’re forced to stay on the surface of life. As poet Kahlil Gibran said, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.” Our ability to feel exuberant happiness is in direct correlation to our ability to feel and manage the difficult emotions.
Three basic facts about grief:
Mourning our losses is work that draws on both physical and emotional energy. It is an active, not passive, process.
Continuing a relationship with the deceased in healthy life-promoting ways helps healing, though crossing the line into denial does not. This might include collaging or collecting photographs; creating a small memorial or shrine; or imagining a conversation. We do some of this work in our dreams.
Whatever we call working through grief and loss—reconciliation or resolution or recovery—these terms are relative. Though the emotional intensity of our losses will fade over time and as we do our work, there is often no magical moment when there is closure and the grief is gone.
Because grief is a potent mix of love and loss, of sadness and remembrance, of cherishing and anger, of gratitude and guilt, it weighs heavy. And yet, it is muck we must somehow wade through on our (hero’s) journey to life’s peaks and treasures. Mary Oliver beautifully unwinds this conundrum in her poem Heavy.
“It’s not the weight you carry
but how you carry it—
books, bricks, grief—
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down. . . ”
Metaphor is a wonderful tool when sorting our way through dark nights of the soul. If we use a house to represent the self (as it often does in dreams), then the living room can be heart space. A new visitor, Grief, arrives and blocks the door. However, with time and attention, we move Grief out of the doorway and into the middle of the room. Eventually, finally, ah yes, we will find a place where the loss of our loved one can rest. A place that does not block our flow. A place that allows us to proceed with our lives, and all the lives that touch ours.
Sometimes the process of mourning requires more than furniture arranging, involving the more intensive work of renovating our house-selves. Factors that block or prolong grief involve antecedent, concurrent, and subsequent issues (that strangely, alliteratively, begin with a “P”):
Premature death: the death of a child can put us at greater risk than the death of an elderly person
Premorbid relationship: unresolved conflict or ambiguity
Previous mental health of the bereaved: such as unprocessed or unaccommodated losses, or other historical antecedents
Perception: relating to cause of death and how preventable it was; or whether there was intent—suicide or homicide
Predictability: sudden or unexpected loss is more difficult than death preceded by a lengthy illness
Personality factors, including age and gender
You may be familiar with Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief, which include denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. They are not hierarchical or chronological—do not progress in a certain order—and can be revisited at any time. Nor are they singular—we can experience more than one stage at a time. David Kessler, who worked with Kubler-Ross, added meaning as the sixth stage. Trying to make sense of death, find a place for it, and understand how it will change us and our lives is essential to working through our suffering. In the epic book Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankel (1946) explains, "Suffering ceases to be suffering in some way at the moment it finds a meaning.”
Denial generally sounds like: This can’t be happening. Or This can’t happen to me.
Anger can be generalized, or may target God or the universe. It can sometimes be couched in blame, or shame, or self-recrimination.
Bargaining is deal making: If I can only have , then I promise I will never again (or will begin ing immediately).
Sadness comes in waves, sometimes washing over our feet, sometimes knocking us to our knees.
Acceptance sounds like: This is actually happening/has happened, and I will figure out a way to manage, even if it takes a long time.
Over the past 80 years, there has been considerable consensus and overlap in grief research. In addition to Kubler-Ross’s stage model, mourning also includes feelings of guilt, hostility, despair, and numbing. Somatic or physical complaints are also common and can include pain, discomfort, and hypersensitivity. Parallel to the stage of denial, we may test reality and ruminate. We may yearn for the deceased, becoming preoccupied with images, voice recordings, or their belongings/effects. In fact, surrounding ourselves with these reminders is a healthy part of recovery for many people.
Here are tips for living with, working through, and navigating grief:
Be gentle and patient with yourself. There is no correct way to mourn. Give yourself permission to grieve your own way.
Acknowledge and attend to your physical/emotional/spiritual needs. In a culture that fears and therefore denies death, we urge others to move quickly through grief—just “get over it.” Bereavement does not work that way!
Rest and relax. Mourning can be exhausting.
Try to keep some sort of regular schedule in regard to sleeping, eating, exercising. It is natural to struggle with the normal pace of life for a few months, but taking a walk, even around the block, can be very healing.
Keep good company when you need it. Spend time with friends who understand, who can tolerate sitting with your sadness rather than shutting it down or covering it up with platitudes. Because grief can be lonely work, reach out and ask friends and/or family to check in on you. Finding a grief group may also be helpful/healing.
Make haste slowly. Allow time and space for your emotions and memories both which will come in waves. Practice accepting and riding the waves. They pass.
Be thoughtful/cautious regarding major decisions. It is best to wait a year, if possible, before making any big changes.
Routine and ritual are helpful. Bathe, get dressed, meditate, keep a list of daily activities—things you need or want to do. Grief can be disorienting and make it easy to forget big and small things.
If you find yourself struggling or think you may be at risk for complicated or prolonged bereavement, see a therapist, inquire about a grief support group, or talk with your doctor.
One last word about children and adolescents. Because they are less equipped to manage grief, they may be more unconscious in their process, and may slowly come to terms with mortality as they gain capacity. It is therefore important that we provide young people with ample opportunity to talk through what they are feeling, but not force discussion or resolution until they are ready. They may become more isolated and distracted, going down the rabbit hole of technology and avoiding participating in activities. They may seem more easily frustrated or irritable. Sleeping and eating patterns may change, and school performance may decline. They may complain of stomach aches or headaches. Regression, also part of adult grief, may be more obvious in children: they may cry more, and fear being alone. They may hold on to the belief that the deceased is still alive.
The best intervention in all of this is to stay connected with yourself and with your children (and don’t forget your inner children!). Making time to engage, listen, and answer questions will sustain your capacity to process, grow, and learn.
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Resources:
Frances Weller, The Geography of Sorrow https://www.thesunmagazine.org/issues/478/the-geography-of-sorrow
Useful website: www.grief.com
Rando, Therese A., How To Go On Living When Someone You Love Dies
James, John and Friedman, Russell, The Grief Recovery Handbook and When Children Grieve
Divine, Megan, Its OK That You're Not OK
Lewis, C. S., A Grief Observed (a tough book for the recently bereft)