Had to bite my tongue today. I overheard a conversation that was none of my business. One woman was talking to another woman about a mutual friend whose father had died two days ago. The woman was encouraging her friend to have the fathers memorial service this weekend rather than next weekend because of the Thanksgiving holiday. Many might not be able to attend the funeral because of their holiday plans. That made sense. The part of the conversation that stung my heart came next. The woman said, She (meaning the mutual friend) needs to have the service right away so she can grieve, get over it, and move on. Ouch! Grieve. Get over it. And move on. It sounds so easy. Kind of like wash, rinse, and repeat, or add boiling water, and stir. I have to admit that I have, in the past, been that woman. I didnt understand the unpredictable, labyrinthine nature of grief. I didnt understand how a smell, a memory, a song, or an item could turn back the hands of time or bring someone back, if only for a moment. I didnt understand that grief doesnt flip the pages of a calendar, or expire at the end of a subscription like Ladies Home Journal. I so wanted to talk to that woman. Im not sure what I would have said. Maybe I would show her my empty ring finger and tell her that sometimes I look down and think Ive accidentally left my ring at home. Then I remember. Maybe I would have told her that last Christmas, my fourth as a widow, was harder than I expected. That I couldnt bring myself to decorate my home, so my boys did it. That I handed my children their Christmas presents still in shopping bags minus the receipts because I couldnt deal with wrapping them. Maybe I would tell her, that at four and a half years after my husbands death, the boys and I, more often than not, can finally talk about him without crying. That happy memories rise to the surface more than sad ones. Maybe I would tell her that. Dear woman next to me, I am sure you meant well. I am sure you meant to help. I hope your friend never hears the words you said. The truth is: your friend will never get over her fathers death. It is part of her. It will change her, if she lets it. It will give her more compassion and empathy and resilience. Grief doesnt go away. But at some point the dance changes. We get to lead instead of being led by it. We sometimes choose another partner for a few songs. At some point the music will brighten. The pace will quicken and lighten. But it will always be one of our dance partners.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 03:30:28 +0000
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