Good Grief

I wrote these words at the end of March, as Grief Gratitude and Courage was taking shape.

I woke up way too early. I laid in bed with my head spinning.  It didn’t stop until the tears started.  I was going through a prayer list in my head, of what I long for in the face of this pandemic.  When I got to health care workers, the dam burst.  They willingly meet and intimately tend people carrying contagion. And in so many places they have been – or will be– poorly deployed, overwhelmed, under-protected, and working past exhaustion. They will probably die in higher numbers than the rest of us.  So I grieve for them, and for their families.  This is the second grief wave that’s hit me in the past week.  My family knows not to worry; they’re used to it.  

Good grief.  There is such a thing.  Why not become acquainted with it now? Nobody I know has yet lost a loved one, but we have lost weddings and funerals and graduations and spring vacations, and many are losing work and financial security too.  We are social animals– we are just beginning to realize the magnitude of the losses we face in social distancing, let alone isolation. All on top of losing the basic safety and daily structure of our lives that most of us have taken for granted. 

Our society does not give people permission to grieve the loss of a loved one properly, let alone the losses we are experiencing now. Don’t go there, we are taught.  Accentuate the positive.  Eliminate the negative.  I see it differently.  Go there, have a good vent or cry, and if you can help it, don’t stay there.  A good cry cuts through worry and fear and guilt and leaves me in touch with my heart.  I see the world with new eyes.  Everything a gift, not to be taken for granted.  And I am ready to reach out, well virtually mostly, to support others.

Good grief is a skill we can learn.  And grieving is easier to bear in company.  So send me an email if you want to join a Good Grief (small) Group.  I’ll facilitate.  Virtual, of course.  Sigh. Be patient as I learn the art of video/phone conferencing… 

Perspective

Saddleback Mountain, photo by Rachel Whitt

Here is my perspective:  grieving is not something to be avoided.  It is normal and healthy.  It is not fun, but after a good cry I feel a sense of relief.  

This is heresy to all the people who avoid "negativity."  That is to say, most everybody I know. So when we experience loss, in addition to the pain of the loss, we have the pain of all the people deflecting or minimizing or avoiding our grief.  And maybe avoiding us too.

What if we changed our perspective, and recognized grief as something sacred and beautiful.  After all, we grieve what we value and love.  Our grief honors that value and love. And our grief also helps us begin to process a loss as our rational minds really can't do.

A Hospice Situation

In October 2015, my sister sent me a video of Dad "sleeping peacefully" after a medical crisis.  I'm so grateful she did, because that recording of Cheyne-Stokes end-of-life breathing was my emergency notice to fly cross-country.  Because of that video, I was able to be at Dad's bedside when he died three days later.  Accompanying him on his last journey was a gift and a privilege for me.  I in turn was accompanied in my vigil by an experienced guide: a hospice nurse.

Many metaphors have been offered for climate crisis.  The one that works best for me is hospice.   Our culture, and much of the life on our planet, is in a hospice situation.