Y’all. Grief sucks. Period. There is no way around it, no way to truly avoid it. I tell clients all the time that you can welcome grief or it will make its way in, somehow. Which sucks, right?
But you know what’s worse? Grieving something with and around people who do not know how to be near grief. Instead of being with people in grief, I often see people trying to resolve, fix or silver-line it.
Instead of being in the emotion, we try and create distance from the emotion. Because if I can “fix” this for you, then somehow I might be able to avoid experiencing a similar pain. When I went through my divorce, so many people wanted to know what happened…maybe because they were genuinely curious, but mostly I think it was so they could possibly avoid the same pitfalls I experienced and potentially keep their own marriage in tact. But the reality is that loss and grief are not avoided through following formulas and rules. The rule-followers have bad things happen. The “faithful ones” experience loss. The optimistic still experience death.
So, instead of making space for the processing and the messy and the hard, we try and clean it up with pithy sayings, verses from the bible or attempting to find/make meaning way too quickly. You will know that what you are saying is NOT helpful if it sounds like any of the following:
“At least…”
“God won’t give you more than you can handle….”
“Choose joy or find something to be grateful for…”
Y’all… I’m going to sound a little bossy right now, so forgive me. But, no. Just no. Because when we say stuff like that, it’s not really FOR the person who is actually grieving, it’s really for us, and an attempt to keep ourselves as distant as possible from the reality of loss, pain and heartache. If I can tell you that “at least you know you can get pregnant (miscarriage) OR You just need to find things to be grateful for in the midst of this…” then what I’m doing is pushing away from your pain. Because if I get close, it might mean it can happen to me.
I could have a miscarriage.
I could lose everything I own.
My marriage might end.
They might not make it.
This might not work out.
But if we simply see ourselves as fellow humans, alongside other humans who deal with hard and messy and painful and at times, unreal situations- then we have a greater capacity to be WITH people.
I recently had a longtime friend experience a devastating and very unexpected loss and this is what I did. I allowed myself to feel the feels (apart from her, because when I am with her, it’s about her. not me), I felt the sadness and fear… then I noticed this urge to make a freaking casserole or something (my southern roots run deep) but I was busy so we settled for some Crumbl cookies and then I went to sit with them. And we cried. I asked questions. I was quiet. I just made space. It was messy and real and raw and hard and heavy.
But isn’t that what it means to be human? Needing and creating space for the hard and messy and heavy and to allow it all to be… because there is no way to live a life that avoids the reality of grief. It comes with the reality of being a person. And so when I am confronted with someone else’s grief- it forces me to slow down and re-enter my own humanness, the reality of my messes and my hard things.
So make the casseroles with extra butter.
Say “gosh, this sucks and I’m here…”
Cry.
Listen.
Ask questions.
Bring excessively large cookies.
It’s in the moments of vulnerability and fragility that the beauty of human connection and relationship flourishes. Make space for that beauty amongst the mess, it’s worth it, I promise. You’re not alone in being human.
