Healing Through Grief

The loss of a loved one is one of the most difficult life events to go through. It’s something nobody is ever taught in schools or childhood or college.

It’s something nobody ever wants to go through.

It’s something I wish nobody ever had to go through.

But it’s something we all inevitably will go through at some point or another in our lives.

Grieving is like your mind screaming in rebellion to your loved one being taken away from you.

Grieving is like an intense pain, not physical, at least not initially, but a pain so overbearing and overwhelming, your insides want to burst.

Grieving is like tears that won’t stop even if you try really hard. They emerge without warning, without discretion – whether you’re by yourself or in an important meeting or in the train/commuting or at a social dinner or party.

Grieving is like an unexpected tsunami of yearning, to touch, to see, to hear your loved one. To hold them, to hug them, to pick up the phone and speak with them. Just once!!

Grieving is like a flashback to moments – memorable or sometimes traumatic – spent with your loved ones. It’s a flashback to conversations with them. It’s a flashback to their actions, their quirks and their annoying habits, which suddenly all seem very endearing.

Everything you ever complained about them or to them, now seem the easiest things to accept and want.

Grieving is like a truckload of sandbags placed right over your heart so you can barely breathe, barely move. The only thing that could lift that burden is your loved one’s voice, that one smile, that one hug, that one pat on the back.

Grieving is like a insuppressible frustration of not being able to physically manifest your loved one. You can see them, you can hear them in your head, but you simply can’t bring them back.

Grieving is like a never-ending negotiation with God, “Please bring them back. Please God. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” When that doesn’t work, it goes into an helpless plea “I beg you, please just bring them back.”

Grieving is like a lost battle with time. “I just want to go back. I can’t go on without my loved one.” But you know you’ve lost this battle.

Grieving is like regret for all the things you wanted to do with or for your loved ones, but couldn’t do. It’s wanting to go back and get a second chance at it.

Grieving is self-inflicted guilt from the constant internal conflict of “what if you had done this, and what if you had done that..”, maybe your loved one would still be with you. It’s like a super-charged scheming thought process to somehow go back to the past and want to recreate your loved one’s life.

Grieving is like an entitled complaint to the universe or the powers-to-be, “Why me?! It’s not fair! Why me?! I didn’t do anything bad and neither did my loved one, so why did this have to happen to me?!”

Grieving is like a stubborn child throwing tantrums: “I don’t care. I just want this. I’m not going to do anything till I get it” and eventually getting deflated and exhausted from crying when nothing gives.

Grieving is like fighting with reality. It’s negotiating to replace what was and what will never be the same again.

Grieving is like holding on to what was held dear, which we never thought we would part with, which we NEVER WANT to part with.

Grieving is like being STUCK in the past, wanting the past, not wanting to move on beyond the past.

Grieving is like holding on to the most meaningful part of our life. How could life have a purpose or the same meaning or sometimes any meaning without that part? Grieving is like a change of status quo. It’s like stepping out of our comfort zone into a territory that’s unknown, scary and we don’t know who or what to rely on to hang on for comfort or reassurance that things will be ok again.

Grieving is like a void we feel desperate and compelled to avoid or fill. It’s too hard to deal with that void. It’s too hard to cope with the changes as a result of that void. And it’s simply impossible to fill that void because nobody can take the place of our loved one.

Grieving is like something stuck in your throat. It will keep bothering you and maybe you’ll keep coughing till it’s stuck... till YOU ARE stuck.

Until you finally choose to get some water to swallow it down and let it flow through you. That is when healing can finally begin.

Healing is like feeling all of the above and giving yourself permission to do so, instead of suppressing the feelings or ignoring them.

Healing is like telling a child who got hurt “It’s ok. It happens. It’s going to hurt a little, maybe a lot. But you’ll get better slowly.”

Healing is like allowing yourself to take medicine – medicine for your soul – to give yourself space to feel and process these emotions (but not going down a spiral with them). It’s like telling yourself “I know this hurts. It’s awful. But I allow my wound to air out and heal. I’m not going to keep poking my wound to make it worse.”

Healing is like forgiving yourself and lifting the guilt of all you tell yourself you could have done. It’s like being kind to yourself and giving yourself credit for all that you did and could do.

Healing is like moving from crying over your loved one’s loss to celebrating your loved one’s life. It’s focusing from what they couldn’t do to all they accomplished in their lifetime, however short or long.

Healing is like acknowledging the role your loved one had in your life and what they taught you. Their role in your life and theirs was fulfilled. It was time for them to go.

Healing is like putting yourself in your loved one’s shoes and imagining how your loved one would want you to feel or live your life after they are gone? Would they want you to cry and be miserable or would they want to see you happy despite the loss?

Healing is like accepting the impermanence of life and that we all are on our individual journeys with our own purpose and path. It’s like giving yourself and your loved one permission to move on.

Healing is like shifting your perspective from what or who you have lost to what you still have or maybe what/who you have gained.

Healing is like starting to build a new status quo. It’s getting used to the new normal. It’s like getting used to the void created and learning to find things that help us accept that void instead of avoid it.

Healing is like recognizing a door has closed but perhaps there is another already open or waiting to be opened. It’s like anticipating that perhaps the new door will bring new possibilities for you.

Healing is like realizing love can come from different sources and not just that one source you knew. It’s like allowing yourself to be open to receive that love from other sources.

Healing is like finally reaching an acceptance of what you cannot change no matter how hard you try. It’s like accepting the limitations of human abilities and the hard truth about mortality.

Healing is like finally growing up and learning the most difficult life lesson the most painful way: understanding what truly matters – not the materialistic possessions, not the money, not the next promotion — but the human connections and the meaningful relationships we share and moments we experience in our lifetimes.

Healing is perhaps recognizing the truth of life in that our life is not defined by the handful of relationships we were born into or those born to us. Life is not limited or defined by “me” or “I” or “my mother or father or sister or child etc.” It’s perhaps recognizing that it’s possible to derive the same meaning and fulfillment and love from other mothers and fathers and sisters and children (and friends of all ages who can play these roles too) regardless of culture or religion or geography.

Healing is like carrying the legacy of your loved ones. It’s like keeping them alive through you, so the impact of their lives, their love and what they had to give to this world, doesn’t stop with them. It continues to have its ripple effects through you and to those you pass it on to. It’s like carrying what you gained from them rather than what you lost because of them.

Healing is like reaching a point where instead of flashbacks, you carry a smooth and constant source of loving energy for and from your loved one. It’s like you accept your loved one is constantly by your side and that nobody can take that presence away from you.

Healing is like getting ready again for all that the world has to offer to you and what you have to offer to the world. It’s like that second chance at reinventing yourself, your life and your relationships. It’s when your heart opens up to new possibilities, to love from new relationships or stronger existing relationships.

Healing is like sifting through the quality of relationships in your life. You’ll know which ones are to stay and which ones you’re ready to let go of.

Healing is like a reaffirmed belief in life and all the beautiful things it has to offer, only if you decide to open up to them.

Healing is feeling the excitement and the energy from the freedom of letting go. It’s keeping the best parts of the love and the life of your loved one, yet letting go of the baggage and the emotional burden of their loss.

Grieving and healing is an iterative process and it’s different for every person. If you give yourself permission, it’s a very beautiful growth process. Remember, the butterfly has to morph itself through a suffocating cocoon to spread its beautiful wings and fly.

Are you ready to fly?