A few days ago, an acquaintance at church made small talk with me: “How’s life?”
And I expected to feel all the normal rage that question elicits for us grievers. You know what I mean. We are the humans donning the cloak of grief, walking around in a world that has moved on from our loss. Such seemingly harmless conversation starters cause internal collisions for grievers.
People stand at the intersection of social expectation and internal reality all the time. A person navigating relationship challenges, work pressures, or even financial struggle may choose a polite answer in the moment. But for grievers, a polite answer can sometimes feel like betraying the dead, and many of us wear badges of honor when it comes to answering those questions honestly. I know I do. I have a canned answer:
How’s life? – It is what it is. How’s yours? (honest answer + redirect = topic evaded.)
Except – for the first time since Jay passed (six and a half years), I didn’t feel any of that, and what came out of my mouth was far from my rehearsed and conditioned reply.
“How’s life?”
I genuinely responded with, “Not too shabby.” And there was no traffic wreck inside my spirit, no tidal wave of grief, no internal volcano to shelve for processing at a later time. There was only a peaceful stillness inside my chest, a storm quieted for the first time.
I was so surprised, I repeated my response to the person.
“Not too shabby….Not Too Shabby!” I was nodding my head in pleasant disbelief and thinking, Not too shabby, Sonney. Holy crap. We’re doing okay. How did that happen? How did we arrive here?
I had just finished a 13-week program called GriefShare, a support group led by professionals and fellow grievers who guide participants through topics that help grievers manage their emotions in the aftermath of loss. Somewhere around weeks 5-8, nestled within the work of in-person meetings, workbook exercises, and supplemental online support tools, I had started healing in ways I didn’t think possible. I had begun making peace with my reality, and exploring what life might look like inside of that peace.
One of the biggest outcomes from the program was the realization that I had been “tracking” my journey through grief. Even more, I’d been measuring that journey against rules I never consciously chose.
Coming face to face with those rules in a supportive environment like GriefShare helped me identify a set of unspoken standards that had been quietly shaping my grief journey. It also helped me evaluate those standards and ultimately revise them into healthier truths that supported living instead of merely surviving.
The Unspoken Rules I’d Been Using to Navigate Grief:
- My survival depends on me and me alone – all of it: my finances, my wellbeing, my career, my children’s journeys through their grief – all of it. Me, and me alone.
- Achieving happiness depends on my ability to get over losing my husband of 22 years. My best friend. My life companion. My ride or die.
- God’s promises and his plan for me depend on my ability to correctly decipher his guidance. If I misinterpret his plans, my reality is my own damn fault.
If anyone else had shared these as their barometer for navigating grief – I would have humbly sat them down and lovingly pointed out how absurd and harsh these rules are. I would have hugged them. No one should be navigating anything by these guidelines. So, if I would never hold another person to these standards, why was I judging myself against them? By the end of the program, I’d reframed those old rules into new truths that helped me shift out of survival mode and begin inviting community and support back into my life.
New Truths to Live By:
- I am responsible for my choices, but I was never meant to carry sole responsibility for my survival. God, community, support, family, and friends are part of not only surviving, but truly living.
- Happiness is not contingent upon “getting over” my husband’s death. Life is about allowing joy to exist alongside grief.
- I will utilize resources and counsel to make the best decision I know how, and I will trust God with the outcomes.
Sometimes we need a little reframe.
Here’s a few quick questions that could help you begin to identify any unspoken standards of your own:
Do you ever feel like you’re failing at this whole grief thing? How so?
Do you find yourself thinking about some future day when you’ll finally be okay? What does that day look like?
Are the heaviest parts of your grief the ones you’ve been trying to carry alone? What makes those burdens difficult to share with others?
After you reflect on those questions, answer this last one:
What would you say to a friend who came to you with the same answers?
I’ve spent a long time feeling like grief was something I had to figure out how to survive. Inside that pursuit, I accidentally created a set of rules – standards – that made survival the main goal. GriefShare helped me identify and begin to question those standards so that I could imagine a life built on more than just surviving. It helped me begin to visualize a life where happiness and purpose and community and peace could live alongside loss.
If you’re like me, you may be carrying heavy burdens, and you may unconsciously be carrying some of them alone. What would it look like if you had some help?
For me the answer and much needed support started with GriefShare. If you’re looking for a better way to navigate grief, you can learn more here: GriefShare.org
