This week has been one of the weirdest weeks of my life thus far. I know there will be more to come, but today is just so different. With Covid still spreading, and the world half way running around us, it seems things couldn’t get any worse. Then they do. The phone call comes in that a close friend lost her mom suddenly from a brain bleed that was inoperable. Not only was she a spectacular lady, but just a year ago she sat with me in a church pew and showed me how to crochet. All because I mentioned one day that I would love to learn. Then another call comes in and someone else in the community has passed, then another, and another! What is going on?

Wasn’t it just a few months ago another close friend lost her mother? An eccentric woman who claimed me as an adopted daughter. Then a few months before that I lost my mother-in-law. A woman whose love for her family came from every orifice of her being. A love that she instilled in her children and her grand children. A legacy her offspring will pass on to all who enter their lives. Most of all my grandmother, who I lost just 2 years early, but seems like yesterday. A lady who left a huge whole in my mothers family. So much loss! In so little time! Why?

I contemplate this at my kitchen table while writing this. The rain is coming down in a steady drizzle. I’m fighting the urge to let my depression carry me away as tears sting my eyes. I could easily get up, crawl back into my bed, snuggle deep down in my covers and spend the day pondering all the memories and sweet moments I had with these amazing people, and cry. Cry for the hole these people left behind. Cry at the lack of support I now have. Cry because I am mad at God for allowing this process and the sorrow it brings. Cry for the lunch I just burned on the stove because my mind was so occupied by my sorrow. I need to let out this emotion, to express it in a healthy way, but how can I do that when my deepest urge is to hide away? Then a flicker of light comes to me in the dark and reminds me not of my sorrow, but of the great love I received from these amazing souls. A love that transformed me into the person I am today. Would I be the same person without having known them? The answer is absolutely not! What about the love I had and still have for these people, do I regret giving it? Would I trade the love I have for these people, and the love I received from them? Would I give it all back to keep my depression from coming? To keep the cycle of grief from entering my life? The answer is no.

As my appetite begins to return and I am eating my burnt lunch, I contemplate the fact that my grief would not be so strong if I hadn’t loved these people so much. Love. Who new that love could bring, not only the highest of highs ,but the lowest of lows. My instincts and body tell me that it is too painful. To love someone and miss them is too painful and the only way to protect myself from this much grief again is to not love so fiercely. To not give of myself. To withdraw and keep my heart safe from this deep depression. A coping skill I have come to embrace in order to survive such intense, debilitating emotion. If I do this. If I withdraw. What will become of my friends and family? If the ones I lost had withheld their love from me, I would not be the same person. If God would have kept His son to himself and held His love for us, this world would have no hope. If I with hold my deepest love from my children, family, and church family what purpose do I have to live for. The realization that to withhold love in order to avoid these emotions would be a continued life of living under the covers. A life of feeling left out, alone, distant, defensive, and dark. A life with no purpose, no hope, no joy. The choice I make now will effect my days to come, my family, my children. Not only in my relationship with them but in the relationships they build with others. The choice, though hard to do, is not impossible.

I bow my head, ask God for forgiveness. Then ask for His mercy, His strength, and wisdom to put one foot in front of the other and go show my family, friends, church family and fellow depression and grief survivors love. Love that I need to give as much as they need to receive. Whether its making sure their clothes are washed, they will have supper ready when they get home, or a quick phone call or text to check on those who are grieving. Love comes in many forms. I will continue to grieve and cry here for a few more minutes for the loss I feel, I will then wipe my tears away, get up, and concentrate on those still with me and love them with guidance from above. I may be overcome with emotion later in my day, so I will take a few minutes to cry again, remember the sweet souls of my past. Because its not about never feeling hurt or scared of the depression that comes with my grief. Its about always moving forward and carrying on love. For love never dies, it is passed on. Given to us by our loved ones we have lost for us to pass on to the ones still with us. So, supper time, here I come. A dash of salt, a hint of rosemary, and all the love I can give.( Because I really hate to cook 🙂 )


2 thoughts on “Grief”

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