“I was taught to bury with the dead the presence of my grief…
But when a shattered heart is desperate, the only respite is to let somebody in.”
— From “Home” by Sara Bareilles
A HOPE Connection grief group is certainly the place where grief is shared. Our loved ones are honored over and over as members say, Tell me your story. I’ll tell you mine.
It is the sacred place of sharing grief and fond memories and letting someone else in.
Viktor Frankl, psychologist, author and Holocaust survivor, coined the term “tragic optimism” as the ability to sustain hopefulness despite the unavoidable trials and tribulations of being human. This is not just a happy face that you put on. It’s a way of seeing purpose in grief, a way of embracing the highs and lows of full humanity.
Certainly, in the lowest depths of grief, it may seem impossible to have hope and optimism. But in ways you may never have thought, perhaps you can learn to co-exist with the ups and downs of grief that come like waves. You do not have control over the waves arriving. But it’s possible to co-exist with those feelings by acknowledging them and knowing that the thoughts that follow the wave can help you understand you are not a victim or prisoner of grief. Rather than fear the next wave, acknowledge the wave as further evidence that you are processing your grief, while managing and living in the present as you go forward.
Giving yourself permission to feel and name whatever feeling you have is what grief is about. Having these feelings is like walking in two worlds at the same time. In The Grieving Brain, Mary-Frances O’Connor, PhD says “your loved one is simultaneously gone and also everlasting.” That’s what it means to be able to feel and talk about the pain when you drive by that favorite restaurant you used to go to with your loved one… or the hospital that you don’t want to remember or see. These reminders are about co-existing with feelings.
It’s also the reflexive reaction to an old pattern or routine. It can explain why a particular time of day may be difficult. For example, Herb used to come home at 4:00 pm and he and Mary would take time to chit chat about their day and share time together. Another might be the routine you and your spouse created when you would receive a call from each other saying, “I’m on my way home.” You might still be waiting for that call. That’s a reflexive reaction to that old routine.
You or your body may have a memory of a routine that you may be trying very hard to avoid. Have you started going a different route to avoid going past the hospital? Or maybe you are trying to be somewhere else at a particular time to avoid the painful reminder.
The first line of Sara Bareilles song, “Home,” is That what is broken cannot heal until it’s known and loved by name.
Sharing grief and naming your loved one helps you heal by having your grief witnessed. Feelings and loved ones need to be named. That’s one of the ways to heal. Grief does not heal in isolation, nor does it heal without acknowledgement and attention to your feelings. That’s how to walk one step at a time in the two worlds of grieving and living.
Next time that wave shows up, give yourself permission to name what is happening. Say your loved one’s name. “Herb, I’m thinking of you, especially now. It’s our 4:00 pm time together and I miss you.” At first it may seem odd or bring up more sadness. Yet doing it a second and third time, you might notice how it brings a smile and perhaps a sense of comfort with a special memory. When you pause long enough to notice what’s here, in the present moment — your breath, your surroundings, the people in your life — you naturally shift out of urgency and into appreciation and co-existence with feelings.