To Love and Lose... Making Sense of Grief.
There are certain realities in life... A person will love and a person will lose. To love people makes one vulnerable; vulnerable to be heartbroken when people leave or walk out of our lives. The reality of loss has become a lot more tangible for me over the past few years. In the midst of grief, I have to remind myself that to be heartbroken and feel a deep sense of loss is not a sign of weakness. It is, rather, a sign that I have let myself love. To love is what I feel we are all ultimately meant to do, especially when we follow the One who is love himself. Despite the place of vulnerability it puts us in and the reality that we may lose who or what we love, it is healthy and good thing. I do not believe that God originally intended life to be this way; for pain, heartbreak, loss and death to exist. But, since we're talking about reality...
Over the past 4 years or so, I have experienced more loss than in the previous 21 years combined. This is honestly more for my own processing and to share my experience with grief than to gain sympathy from people.
In April 2014, I was in London on a break from my internship, when I received a message that my grandmother had passed away. It wasn't a shock, since my family had kept me updated and had let me know that she had congestive heart failure several weeks beforehand. I still tear up when I think about her. As she breathed her last breaths on earth, my parents and aunt and uncle sang her favorite hymn, Because He Lives. I can rarely make it through this song without weeping. She was such a precious gift to me and I loved her dearly. Her passing marked a commencement of sorts... a (very slow) opening up of an emotional side of myself that I had suppressed for years. Even still, I didn't fully let myself grieve. I was in the middle of my internship in France and I just didn't know how to process everything.
A year later, in May of 2015, a very close friend's mother passed away. She and my mom had been in a birthing class together before my friend and I were born 20 days apart. Her daughter and I grew up together and are basically like sisters. The last time I saw her, I gave her a hug and she told me, "Look after her (referring to her daughter) for me. I love you, kiddo."A few weeks later, I got a voicemail from my friend. I could barely hear what she said because she was sobbing, but I knew. Still, I don't know if I felt the depth of loss until her birthday about six months later. I was sitting in my office at the end of the day when I realized it was her birthday and proceeded to uncontrollably cry. No one was in the office at the time, but I remember hoping no one would notice my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks on my walk back to the dorm where I was living.
The following year, in May of 2016, I was in Florida for another close friend's father's memorial service when I got a text from my mom that my grandpa wasn't doing well. About five years earlier, he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. When I left on my internship in 2013, I said goodbye to him thinking that it might be the last time I saw him. He gave me a big hug, rocking me back and forth and told me that I was a "good one", as he frequently said about people he really liked. I came back over a year later, and it was as if part of him was gone. That was really hard. I think because the grieving process happened over the course of several years, I wasn't expecting his death to hit me as hard as the death of my grandma. On the plane home from Florida, I cried the whole flight. I turned my phone off airplane mode and got a text saying that he had died just a few minutes before I landed. The summer that followed, I was so blessed to have my own room at the college where I was working and to only work 25 hours per week. I made a conscious decision that I wasn't going to hold myself back from grieving. The result of that was a summer where I spent at least an hour a day crying in my room. I wasn't able to stop and be still, open my Bible, or pray without being overcome with sadness and grief. That summer was so difficult, but so necessary, to not only grieve the death of my grandpa, but that of my grandma and my friend's mom as well.
In August of 2016, a woman who came on my internship as a "house mom" for the first 8 months passed away. I hadn't seen her since she returned home while I was living in France, but it seemed to be a fairly quick decline and came as a shock to me to hear she was dying. Just this past week, I went to a Christmas Carol event which she participated in five years ago, singing in the choir. I remember her looking like she loved every minute of it. I so admired her for following where she felt the Lord was leading her, even though it wasn't easy and she missed her kids and grand-kids dearly while she lived abroad.
In November of 2017, one of my friends from high school died unexpectedly. She was one of those people who I didn't necessarily have a lot in common with, but I adored her. She was just a very special person to me. After a few years away at college, life took us different directions and we lost touch because sometimes that just happens in life. It's still a bit raw when I think about losing her. (Honestly, I've been crying for the past hour)...
It's true that time can dull the ache of loss, but when you feel something so deeply, to just "get over it" doesn't really match my experience thus far. Sometimes I wonder why it took losing these dear people in my life to start to be more in touch with the emotional side of myself. I am just now truly starting to understand that it is okay to be honest with myself in what I'm feeling and to share that side of myself with others. Often, I've felt that I can't let myself be "weak" or not have it together when those around me are going through a difficult time. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be strong and to support those around me. It's hard to be vulnerable and to let other people in and care for me. I'm very thankful for the people God has brought into my life at the right times who have helped me to break down some of these walls. I guess what I'd like to end with is this... if you're grieving, let yourself. It can be ugly and depressing and miserable at times, but let Jesus care for your heart. He truly is hope and peace for the brokenhearted. He has experienced and knows pain. Pour out your heart to Him, He can handle it.
Over the past 4 years or so, I have experienced more loss than in the previous 21 years combined. This is honestly more for my own processing and to share my experience with grief than to gain sympathy from people.
In April 2014, I was in London on a break from my internship, when I received a message that my grandmother had passed away. It wasn't a shock, since my family had kept me updated and had let me know that she had congestive heart failure several weeks beforehand. I still tear up when I think about her. As she breathed her last breaths on earth, my parents and aunt and uncle sang her favorite hymn, Because He Lives. I can rarely make it through this song without weeping. She was such a precious gift to me and I loved her dearly. Her passing marked a commencement of sorts... a (very slow) opening up of an emotional side of myself that I had suppressed for years. Even still, I didn't fully let myself grieve. I was in the middle of my internship in France and I just didn't know how to process everything.
A year later, in May of 2015, a very close friend's mother passed away. She and my mom had been in a birthing class together before my friend and I were born 20 days apart. Her daughter and I grew up together and are basically like sisters. The last time I saw her, I gave her a hug and she told me, "Look after her (referring to her daughter) for me. I love you, kiddo."A few weeks later, I got a voicemail from my friend. I could barely hear what she said because she was sobbing, but I knew. Still, I don't know if I felt the depth of loss until her birthday about six months later. I was sitting in my office at the end of the day when I realized it was her birthday and proceeded to uncontrollably cry. No one was in the office at the time, but I remember hoping no one would notice my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks on my walk back to the dorm where I was living.
The following year, in May of 2016, I was in Florida for another close friend's father's memorial service when I got a text from my mom that my grandpa wasn't doing well. About five years earlier, he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. When I left on my internship in 2013, I said goodbye to him thinking that it might be the last time I saw him. He gave me a big hug, rocking me back and forth and told me that I was a "good one", as he frequently said about people he really liked. I came back over a year later, and it was as if part of him was gone. That was really hard. I think because the grieving process happened over the course of several years, I wasn't expecting his death to hit me as hard as the death of my grandma. On the plane home from Florida, I cried the whole flight. I turned my phone off airplane mode and got a text saying that he had died just a few minutes before I landed. The summer that followed, I was so blessed to have my own room at the college where I was working and to only work 25 hours per week. I made a conscious decision that I wasn't going to hold myself back from grieving. The result of that was a summer where I spent at least an hour a day crying in my room. I wasn't able to stop and be still, open my Bible, or pray without being overcome with sadness and grief. That summer was so difficult, but so necessary, to not only grieve the death of my grandpa, but that of my grandma and my friend's mom as well.
In August of 2016, a woman who came on my internship as a "house mom" for the first 8 months passed away. I hadn't seen her since she returned home while I was living in France, but it seemed to be a fairly quick decline and came as a shock to me to hear she was dying. Just this past week, I went to a Christmas Carol event which she participated in five years ago, singing in the choir. I remember her looking like she loved every minute of it. I so admired her for following where she felt the Lord was leading her, even though it wasn't easy and she missed her kids and grand-kids dearly while she lived abroad.
In November of 2017, one of my friends from high school died unexpectedly. She was one of those people who I didn't necessarily have a lot in common with, but I adored her. She was just a very special person to me. After a few years away at college, life took us different directions and we lost touch because sometimes that just happens in life. It's still a bit raw when I think about losing her. (Honestly, I've been crying for the past hour)...
It's true that time can dull the ache of loss, but when you feel something so deeply, to just "get over it" doesn't really match my experience thus far. Sometimes I wonder why it took losing these dear people in my life to start to be more in touch with the emotional side of myself. I am just now truly starting to understand that it is okay to be honest with myself in what I'm feeling and to share that side of myself with others. Often, I've felt that I can't let myself be "weak" or not have it together when those around me are going through a difficult time. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be strong and to support those around me. It's hard to be vulnerable and to let other people in and care for me. I'm very thankful for the people God has brought into my life at the right times who have helped me to break down some of these walls. I guess what I'd like to end with is this... if you're grieving, let yourself. It can be ugly and depressing and miserable at times, but let Jesus care for your heart. He truly is hope and peace for the brokenhearted. He has experienced and knows pain. Pour out your heart to Him, He can handle it.
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