It is just after 5am.I have been up for an hour. No, I don't have anywhere to be, it's just one of those mornings.
I am cuddled in my chair by the fire in the soft glow of the Christmas tree and fragrant candlelight. The house and world are still and quiet. My spirit, however, is stirring.
A lot has happened in my world in recent weeks. A trip to see my in-laws in another state. The resulting COVID exposure and our own illness. A disagreement with a family member that has haunted me. And, perhaps most significant, another shifting in the grief process.
Someone said to me recently that they didn't have to experience grief to understand it. I couldn't possibly disagree more. I have experienced it and I still don't understand it.
I have lost an infant child. I have lost my parents and one set of in-laws. I have lost all of my grandparents. I have lost numerous dear friends and other relatives. I thought surely, if anyone did, I understood grief. Then I lost a husband. I had no idea about grief!
Each grief experience is different. And my experience in a relational loss is not the same as yours in the same relational loss because each relationship is different. Several new widows in my life this year has reminded me of that fact. But there are some general similarities. One of those is time and morphosis.
They say that time heals all wounds and there is some truth to that, but those wounds, though healed, are scarred, and remain tender for some time, often permanently. Grief becomes the broken ankle that functions perfectly on a day-to-day basis but tells you for the rest of your life when the weather is changing.
The weather is changing.
I am nearly through my eighth year of widowhood. In just over a month, I will enter the ninth year. With each passing year, there are shifts. This eighth year has been no exception.
I will be talking more about the grieving process, particularly as it relates to Christians, in an upcoming blog, but for this time I will simply state that I am no longer in active grief and have not been in that highly and constantly emotional state for several years. Yet I do have those times when the sensation of loss returns, sometimes very briefly, sometimes over a period of time. I do not have days when my late husband does not come to mind. There are very few when he is not mentioned in some way in conversation. But my life no longer centers around him and loss. I have moved forward, fallen in love again, remarried, and am excessively happy in my current life. Yet, the past is not erased.
This summer, I had a very strange dream. It was very vivid and I still remember it clearly these many months later. It was an exclamation point on what I suspected was another shifting in the grieving process. The morphosis has continued and recently received another exclamation point.
I guess all this is to say that for those of you out there in active grief, be patient with yourselves. Don't expect too little, allow yourself to stagnate in your grief, it is not a place to live indefinitely, but don't expect to much from yourself either. This time of year is hard. Somehow that empty chair looms larger, seems emptier. Give yourself grace. This time will pass and you will again rejoice in the holiday season.
For those of you out there supporting a loved one in grief, please don't say to them that it's time to move on! Especially if they have not yet reached the second anniversary of the death. Just don't! It isn't helpful! In fact, it just makes things worse, makes them feel even more isolated and lonely. Moving on is not an option. They will move FORWARD, most likely are doing so even if it doesn't seem that way to you, but they will never move ON. There is a difference. Instead, mention their loved one by name! Share a special memory! Offer grace, even if you don't understand. And give thanks to God that you don't!
