The last few days have left me grappling with how to return to the ordinariness of life while others still suffer so greatly from their losses. The thought of it made me feel selfish, indifferent, and uncaring. But I knew I had to move on, we all must move on. Then, it occurred to me; maybe the best way to honor those who died is to continue living.
Let’s allow ourselves and each other to grieve this tragedy or our own tragedies. Grief is not a luxury, it’s a necessity. Whatever it looks like, however long it takes, let’s allow grieving and healing.
“Good Grief” was a recent topic at church and I’d written something to share on my blog about it last week. I shelved it the last few days as it seemed trite to speak of any grief being good while the pain is so fresh and raw. Nevertheless, in the manner of moving on, I’ve decided to post it now. It is not my intention to trivialize the depth of pain many are experiencing because of the shooting.
Pain and grief are universal experiences; we all must find ways to heal from them and move on. This is the reason for my post. Fellow blogger Joseph Pote wrote something very similar this month titled “Christmas Mourning.” His words spoke right to my heart; I hope you’ll check it out, too.
“Merry Christmas!” we cheerfully announce to each other all season long. But, wait! Is that a greeting or a command? Must we be merry just because it’s Christmas? For many of us, Christmas can be a time of mixed emotions. Unresolved pain resurfaces from divorce, death, or broken relationships; logistics prevent us from spending time with everyone we want to see; and financial stress takes a toll. Grief can become an unwelcome visitor during the holidays. We want the joy of the season, but we might not realize that by blocking our opportunities to acknowledge and process grief, we limit our ability to experience joy.
Two verses resonated with me at church recently. Ecclesiastes 3:4 “There is a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance” and Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”
They remind me of the Swedish proverb: ‘Joy shared is multiplied, grief shared is divided.’ Our pastor described the healing effect of mourning in community and how our capacity for joy is directly proportional to our capacity to grieve.
We’ve got that first part down pat. We are quick to rejoice and share our celebrations, but unfortunately, we’re often just as quick to shy away from pain. Tears and depression seem to push people away, yet because we are hurt in relationship, we heal in relationship. By resisting the grieving process, we rob ourselves of the gift to fully encounter joy.
I’ve learned the truth of that paradox through experiences of my own. It’s easy to think of instances when I’ve invited people to rejoice with me. Birthdays, weddings, and babies are events that quickly come to mind. Examples of sharing grief are a bit more complicated. But, I’ll share two very different experiences I had in attempting to grieve in community.
A few years ago, when I was struggling through my estrangement with my parents, I called someone who was like a mother figure to me. I was in tears, and told her I really needed a “mom fix.” She said she’d be right over, and she must have dropped everything to fulfill her promise. It was about a 45 minute drive and she was to my house in less than an hour. She joined me on the couch, and just the relief of her presence made me cry. Almost immediately, she hopped up and eagerly said “I’ll clean the bathroom and kitchen for you!” Her message was loud and clear. You mourn and I’ll clean.
Contrast that experience with another one I had the same year. Though nervous to reach out again, I called a friend I’d met recently in a personal growth class. We had alcoholic parents and parental estrangement in common, so I felt an immediate connection. I told her I was having a really tough day, and she said she’d come over shortly. A few minutes later she called back to tell me roadblocks from the local parade prevented her from leaving her house. I thanked her for offering to come, appreciative of her effort. About an hour later, though, I was surprised to see her at my door. She’d waited in her car for them to remove the street barriers and had come immediately thereafter. She sat on the couch with me and we talked and cried together. Her message was also loud and clear. You are important to me. I’ll mourn with you.
There was healing power in knowing the effort my friend had put forth to connect with me. There was even more healing in crying together and somehow my pain truly was divided. I’ve had to continue being vulnerable, yet selective, in asking safe people to grieve with me. My deep emotional wounds have required considerable time to heal. But because I’ve allowed myself the process of mourning in community, I continue to experience new joy more fully than I ever imagined. I continue to become freer, calmer, and happier.
How about you? How does someone else’s grief affect you? What are some ways you’ve experienced or denied your own grief?
Dec 21, 2012 @ 22:59:20
An insightful post regarding grief. We all process grief in so many different ways. It seems so natural to share celebrations and joy of any type. Grief crawls into my heart and wants to hide behind the chambers. Often I feel as though enough deep breaths will never provide my heart enough air, therefore it’s afraid to try to heal again.
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Dec 21, 2012 @ 23:51:42
Thanks, Sheri…It’s so natural to want to avoid grief, but what relief when we finish the process in healing.
So glad you stopped by!
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Dec 21, 2012 @ 11:06:19
You are so lucky to have such good friends. All we really need is just one super special friend like that, and we’re good to go. Bless you during this holiday season, Denise.
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Dec 21, 2012 @ 11:17:51
It’s so true! A special friend can really make all the difference! I am blessed to have 3 wonderful friends like that in my life now. And now I have so many wonderful blogging friends, such as yourself, that have touched my life in ways I never could have imagined. Thanks for stopping by…I hope you enjoy the holidays, too!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 20:35:45
I love the way you share such authentic feelings. Thank you.
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Dec 20, 2012 @ 16:06:00
Thanks…we seem to have that in common 😉
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 16:36:18
I try and deal with grief by writing – it’s really the only way I can keep myself sane at times!
I love “the best way to honor those who died is to continue living” what a beautiful sentiment…
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Dec 20, 2012 @ 16:05:29
Writing is a great outlet for so many of us. Thanks for stopping by, Dianne!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 08:44:09
I have to say grief it the thing I most dislike in this life – it is right up there with terror. During 911 I worked for a campus ministry. My way of dealing with it was to get the information but then stay away from the constant media reports because otherwise I started to feel like I was as traumatized as if I’d been there. One of the pastors spent days in front of the tv or radio until he could barely function (although he didn’t know anyone personally who’d been involved). Around the third day I was laughing at a joke my co-worker had said and the pastor actually snapped at me that I was heartless to be enjoying myself when so many other people were suffering. I don’t think that’s what Jesus would’ve wanted – how much good are we doing people if we just lay down and stop functioning while they are grieving over something personally? It seemed selfish to me to wallow in somebody else’s grief like that. But on the flipside 911 was traumatic even for those of us who didn’t lose anyone (I was amazingly lucky that my family and friends who were in NY were fine – as were all their friends). And this Connecticut shooting was traumatic for me too just hearing about it and knowing these things happen in the world. But I think the media really encourages us to take on the other people’s trauma to the point where we are even more traumatized than is healthy for someone not personally involved. I experienced that yesterday when I started to have a panic attack out of the blue about my daughter going to school – and I realized I had read too many articles and seen too many photos of grief-stricken/horrified people. And I thought, “Would I want the rest of the country to have panic attacks and be crushed because of something traumatic that happened to me?” And the answer was no – I would want the people not personally involved to feel sympathy and even a bit of grief for me, but I would want them to be the ones to keep going, to keep up the hope and faith that I would have lost in my grief, to show me that normalcy can still exist. I don’t want people to stop functioning and be crushed with me because then I feel like they are trying to steal my experience (thought I would not understand why they would want to). I know – this is such a long rambling comment! I’m not saying it is not natural for all of us who weren’t personally involved to feel traumatized and grief – but I am saying it is ok for us to keep living and be happy. We owe it to the people who were personally involved to keep the normalcy, the faith and the hope of the goodnes that is in the world – because if I were in their place I doubt I could remember it myself.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 09:31:32
Julia, you always have such amazing insight and I appreciate your perspectives so much.
I agree with you completely and am so glad you took the time to share your comments. (and I didn’t think you were rambling!)
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 07:19:23
You must be a good friend to have so many good friends ready to drop everything to be by your side. God bless.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 09:22:38
My circle of friends shrunk dramatically in the beginning of my recovery when my anger was still so strong. As I’ve grown and learned to be a good friend I have also gained good friends.
Thanks, Robin!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 06:05:53
In the beginning I could only let it out a bit at a time. I had to learn how to do it. Now it just happens naturally. It’s messy, there is no way out but through it. It can be a long or short process, it’s seldom convenient. It allows us to say goodbye so that we may welcome the new. It is much easier to be angry than to feel sad and grieve, but that stops the miracle. You are right Denise, in that we must choose your support wisely, bus sometimes it’s a stranger. Losing someone through such violence is like two deaths, two horrific things to deal with, one fades but I’m not sure the other ever does. Thanks for sharing this.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 06:36:31
Marsella, I was the same way…only a little bit at a time. It was too hard any other way -and I think too much for others to handle, also.
Oh how I relate to what you said about easier to be angry than to feel sad…that is the understatement for me!
Your wisdom is always spot on for me…thanks for sharing!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:36:58
I REALLY like your opener. Always honor the dead by living… Thanks that was a nice wake up call.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:57:41
Hi Jasmine! Thanks for stopping by and taking time to comment 😉
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 06:42:54
Of Course!!!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:21:56
This is so good! We must share others grief, and go on to strengthen others with God’s love and His Word.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:35:20
Thanks for stopping by and sharing!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 04:24:00
Well said, Denise. Thank you for sharing this blog with us.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:33:09
Thanks, Karen. 😉
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 04:17:57
Oh, Denise, your post speaks to so much that is in my heart and has surrounded my life for the last few years. When my mom died, I stopped living in a way. I just went through the motions of daily life – work, making sure the kids were taken care of, etc – but I wasn’t really living. It sounds like you have some wonderful people in your life. My closest friend lives several thousand miles away, many friends who live closer to me just didn’t understand and expected me to be done with my grieving a few months after my mom died. Because of that, I drew into myself, pulled away further. I found people who understood through my blog and I am grateful for that. One day I realized that the life I was living wasn’t the way my mom would want me to live. She would want me to be happy, move forward, and slowly I took my first steps. I am still grieving her loss. I miss her deeply this time of year. I still grieve, but now I try to live as well. When I was 2 years old, I had a very bad accident. There was a greater chance I’d die than live. I was talking to my son one day about my accident and he said to me “there must have been a reason you were saved.” My son, no longer a baby but a young man, had spoken words so true. There must be a reason. I don’t know that reason, but I need to keep trying to move forward and live. Wonderful post!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:32:43
Kathy, your son is a wise young man. I think the reason you were saved was to share your story and help others move through pain as only you know to do.
We are all better people when we read your story. I know your words have tweaked my heart each time I can relate to something you’ve said. The tweaking hurts just a bit, but it also heals just a bit. Thank you for sharing yourself…
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 03:56:28
Two occasions, when sharing my shock and horror (maybe grief, in a way) at things my abusive ex did, the responses were only slightly different, but had a very different impact. One friend said, “He doesn’t need to be doing that.” The other said “How dare he?!!” The first was intellectually stating what I already knew and was helpless to change, and only added to my frustration. The second, even though the circumstances didn’t change, SHARED my hurt, and thereby lifted my burden just for a moment, which was more than enough.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:22:34
Yes, yes, yes!! That is exactly it! Sharing the pain is so much more healing.
Thank you for sharing this story, it is a perfect illustration.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 09:32:42
What a good point you make: and thereby lifted my burden just for a moment, which was more than enough. Sometimes we don’t need a shoulder to cry on or someone to glue us back together. Sometimes we just need someone to validate our feelings, share our grief, and lift a portion of the burden just for a moment.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 10:46:54
Yes! And I like your point, that: Sometimes we don’t need …..someone to glue us back together. Sharing, yes. Responsible for fixing, no. Just blessing each other as we are able. Blessings!
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 03:54:47
A very good post, Denise! Reading it, my eyes teared up as I grieved, with you, your losses and rejoiced at the sweetness of friendship.
I remember one time, a few years ago, I dropped my kids off at their mother’s house for the usual custodial transfer. I hid my tears from them while hugging and kissing them goodbye. Then I drove straight to a friends house where I broke down sobbing in her kitchen, “It’s just not right! A father shouldn’t have to drop his kids off at another house for two weeks at a time!”
My friend teared up with me, shaking her head, “No, it’s not right!”
Sharing the sorrow with some one who understands really does make it more bearable…and less lonesome…
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:20:02
Hi Joe! I belatedly added a link to your post on “Christmas Mourning” (http://josephjpote.com/2012/12/christmas-mourning/)as it is so similar to this one I wrote.
Thank you for sharing this story about dropping off your kids -your perspective is precious in a unique way because most men either won’t cry, or won’t admit they do.
I admire and appreciate you telling/showing this vulnerable part of your life.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 00:49:16
Nice post Denise. I must say though that losing a child cannot be shared by anyone else since it is a hole that is punched in the soul. But when people rally round to assist you and love you during the worst times, it is a lesson in love. This is the aspect that you are speaking of. You will move on, because the loss that these parents are suffering is their own personal journey and you must take yours. Your love and consideration for them is enough for now. They will get all the love they need. Thank you for this.
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Dec 19, 2012 @ 05:17:22
Hi Yaz, I would imagine losing a child must be the absolute worst pain possible. Only those who have been through it could truly empathize with those in Sandy Hook now.
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