“Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” -Vicki Harrison
I have been working through grief lately. I thought I was dealing with the losses I have experienced over the past year as they happened. But, I am learning now that I have barely scratched the surface. I feel alone—even though I know I am not the only one struggling. I feel scared that I will always be this sad.
The world is full of devastating news. Heartbreak, loss and people mistreating each other. Yes, we have a choice. We can be positive, look for the good in things—and change our attitudes. We can remind ourselves that it could always be worse. But even in doing that…we have to grieve. I didn’t allow myself to do that. I still don’t know how, but I am trying.
The past year has been so full of loss. More than just divorce and cancer. I have felt sad many times but I did not grieve. I have kept myself busy, entertained and I have tried to find glimpses of happiness whenever I can. I was just trying my best to survive, but it did not include any grieving.
I have so many family members and friends supporting me. For that I am forever grateful. Even with an army of support behind me…I feel like only a few people truly understood the full extent of my trauma. Those people include some irreplaceable friends who have also faced cancer. I lost one of those friends to cancer last week. My friend “K” was the perfect example of a fighter. A shining light, a true inspiration. She let me send her crazy venting texts, she brought me dinner, she encouraged me to fight when I wanted to give up. I keep reading through our text feed, that’s how I am grieving. I will always remember her bravery and grace. I will honor her by continuing my fight.
Unfortunately, I am learning there is no fast pass for grieving. You can certainly try, but you will be back at square one before you know it. I am allowing myself to go through the pit right now. Which according to a diagram my sweet friend “A” sent me—is the stage of loneliness. This falls right between guilt and isolation. It’s not a fun place to be, but the good news is I have friends and family that pull me out of that pit of loneliness for sanity breaks.
My heart will heal in time with God’s help. I will keep reminding myself of that until I believe it. One day at at time, even in making many mistakes along the way, healing will come. When I veer off course, He brings me back gently. It’s a constant journey, but I am grateful.
“I’m holding on to all of the pieces of my heart’s debris, ’till it’s time. I’ll pull it together and fix myself eventually, I know that it’s mine.” -Phoebe Ryan, Mine.
One day at a time, with God’s help, I know that it’s mine.