The Faces of Grief

Take a look at these four faces and think about which ones you think indicate a grieving woman.

If you said A and D, you’re absolutely right.

If you said, “All of the above” you are also absolutely right.

Grief is a really huge topic, so today I want to zero in on one small facet of it. I feel like there is a misconception about grief existing mostly in the first year after the death of someone you love. Everyone focuses on “the firsts.” Let’s start there–the firsts. The average person believes “the firsts” are basically holidays. The first Christmas, birthdays, and anniversaries are certainly challenging. But the advantage with all of them is that most of your support system, your friends and family, know those dates are going to be difficult. So they reach out to you with a supportive message like, “I know today is extra difficult. I’m thinking of you.” And that’s terrific support! It helps take the sting out just the tiniest bit because your grief is recognized and makes you feel a touch less lonely.

But let me tell you about some of the other firsts:

·      The first time you get mail in his name;

·      The first time you get your taxes done and realize you are now considered “single”;

·      The first time one of your medical providers says they are updating their system and they need the name of your emergency contact;

·      The first, second and third time you get bombarded with magazine renewals for his favorite magazine;

·      The first time you have an issue with the car (or substitute in any other mechanical/electronic equipment that was “his job” to maintain). Dave was particularly good at laundry and removing stains. I remember a stain I couldn’t remove sending me into a tailspin;

·      The first vacation alone, the first time you hear a certain song, the first time you cook his favorite meal, the first big decision you make without him, the first time you have to say goodbye to the family pet without him…the list goes on and on and on.

And for the record, the second, third and fourth time ain’t no picnic either.

The problem with all of these firsts is that you deal with them alone. No one else knows that the spaghetti sauce stain on your shirt is sending you into a major crying fit. And you don’t want to call someone and tell them why you’re having a meltdown. You start to worry that you’re going to appear needy…weak…you don’t want to be that woman who appears to be crying all the time so you go it alone. And it can take years for all of these firsts to occur. So in your third year you might get knocked out at the knees because you bump into an old friend that doesn’t even know your person has died.

I do agree that the pain changes as time moves on. I’m approaching 18 months since Dave died. The grief is totally different now. I appear to be a well-adjusted woman. I think I appear as if I’m done grieving. Actually, right now I’m on a 5-week RV trip with Sadie, my puppers. I’m spending three weeks volunteering at an equine rescue, then visiting family. I’ve always found volunteering in something you believe in to be satisfying and fulfilling. For me that pretty much always involves animals. If you’d like to hear a little more about this trip, click here.

As a matter of fact, pictures “B” and “D” were taken on this trip. The latter occurred while I was walking Sadie. Something hit me smack dab out of the blue and I was balling my eyes out.

Don’t ever put a time limit on your grief or your tears—I’ve said many times before tears are just love leaking out your eyes. For those of you that are friends with someone that has an unexpected crying jag in your presence, don’t think that this behavior happens each and every day. It may or it may not. Don’t try to make them feel better too quickly. Don’t be embarrassed if you’re sitting in a restaurant when this happens. Ask her what she’s thinking about. She may tell you that when you ordered the chicken piccata it made her think of him. She hasn’t even heard the words “chicken piccata” since he died. It was his favorite meal. Let her talk about it.  

In essence, whether there’s a smile on her face or tears are streaming down, grief is always present. It’s not quite as suffocating as in the early days, but don’t mistake that smile thinking she’s “moved on.” There is no moving on. Just putting one foot in front of the other learning how to build a new life.