Don’t Run Away from Grief; Learn to Swim Through It
It happened again. My dream. I have it while awake. And Saturday night I had it again while asleep: the dream that she walks back through our front door.
But as always, I wake up. And she hasn’t walked through the door after all.
I saw this quote on Instagram this weekend:
“If you simply can’t understand why someone is grieving so much, for so long, then consider yourself fortunate that you do not understand.”
Unfortunately, I understand such grief. On intense grief days, I wonder if it will ever get easier, lighter. If grief is ever finished.
But I’ve lived enough to know that grief has no definite timeline. That it can’t be rushed. That it will take as long as it takes.
That doesn’t mean I like it. Or, on many days, even accept it. I often still fight against it. I rail against this heavy grief, even though these wrestlings never help.
On those days, I try to give myself grace. I say these words from Martha Whitmore Hickman,
“I will not further burden myself by trying to fit some image of a ‘model griever.’ The strength I have is the strength to be myself.”
Even if this version of myself isn’t the me I want to be, it is the me that I am. She deserves my love and compassion.
It helps to remember I’m not the only one grieving today. All around the world, at this very second, there are millions of people who are grieving their own losses. And some people in my own small circle, too. We cry together. When life is hard, we normalize that it’s human to feel sad.
Dag Hammarskjöld once said,
“Life only demands from you the strength you possess. Only one feat is possible—not to have run away.”
So I even though I’d rather not still be grieving, I try not to run away from it. It’s stuck to me like glue anyway.
Vicki Harrison sums it up like this:
“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”
I swim another day.
Are you grieving a loss today, too? We can grieve together. Share your thoughts in the comments.
Oh, Lisa. What a poignant account of your loss and the grief that you are left with. Each of us is different in the way we grieve. Some of us throw ourselves into work until we become quite weary. Some of us paste a smile on our face and say, “I’m fine”, when we really aren’t, when what we really need to do just as you are doing…accepting it for what it is and swimming through it. When we carry His Name, we don’t grieve as those who have no Hope, but we still grieve and it’s okay…regardless how long it takes.
I am so sorry, my friend. This wrenching grief is a lot to endure. There are no usual rituals that signify it moves from the raw intensity of the pain.. You remain in my thoughts and prayers.
I have found grief to be sneaky character that doesn’t play fair at all. One can find themself to seemingly be handling things well and then grief blindsides us. I find myself trying to grieve in the graceful, quiet way you seem to have mastered. When I think I cannot possibly tolerate another moment of this process, I find myself knowing I am blessed to not know the same grief you have carried for so many years. I will never forget and will forever be thankful for the birth of Jenna because I consider her the hiatus from your grief process for just a day or two before another wave comes along to hit you. Love you, sweet Lisa.
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I replied with a heart and praying hands, but it shows question marks. Love and hugs and prayers, Lisa!
Grief has its own timetable, Lisa, that’s for sure. We just learned this morning that our pastor’s father passed away last night, so your post comes at a poignant time for all of us. Thank you for the courage to share where you are in the process. Blessings!
Lisa,
Thanks so much for posting this!! After dealing with the loss of my husband in April, I am now dealing with the loss of my best friend…She was diagnosed with stage 4 uterine cancer right after my husband died and as a nurse, I knew I was going to lose her too…Lately, grief has come in tidal waves and I am working on giving myself grace….I was just getting over dealing with how hard Christmas was this year and then my friend passed away…This is the 4th passing of family and friends in 10 months…I hope it is the last for awhile…Take care of yourself as I have learned that is so important to do….
Hugs,
Deb
Debbie-Dabble Blog
Beautifully written, Lisa. Sending warm hugs your way.
These quotations are so profound. To let oneself feel grief is so hard, but I don’t think one can come to wisdom without it. Thank you for sharing your feelings, I hope this community can be a support as you keep swimming.
Oh, Lisa, I wish I could hand you a life vest, a pool noodle, or ANYTHING to make the swimming easier. I honor your willingness to openly share your grieving heart, because so many have masked theirs. May your dream come to reality one day—and soon!
Praying for you and yours.
I am taking a grief companioning class right now and first lesson is there is no time table to grief. Good words here today, Lisa.