Grief Is My “Frenemy”

grief [ɡrēf] NOUN : deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death. “She was overcome with grief” synonyms:sorrow · misery · sadness · anguish · pain · distress · agony · torment · affliction · suffering · heartache · heartbreak · broken-heartedness · heaviness of heart· woe · desolation · despondency · dejection · despair · angst · mortification · mourning · mournfulness · bereavement · lamentation · lament · remorse · regret · pining · blues · dolor · dole

I thought it would be wise to look up the definition of the word “Grief” since it is my new found frenemy. Although I believed I knew the meaning, I was struck by the number of synonyms for it, and as I read through them, I realized that are all so very accurate.

Grief is so encompassing and it could drown you if you let it. I refer to it as my “frenemy” because it has taught me things like a friend would, and it has brought me to my knees as an enemy would. As the enemy, Grief has made me feel emotions that I have never had to face before, to the degree that I do now.

• Sadness: It literally starts in your heart, the core of you, and you can feel it seeping through your veins. It has a coldness to it, that makes you feel like you have ice under your skin. It can bring you to tears in an instant and leave you short of breath, or worse, it can make your entire being heave with sobs and you can’t catch your breath. It makes your eyes cry so many tears, more than you knew you were physically capable of, and makes them heavy to the point you appear to have aged. It is a weight that you carry with you every day. A weight that makes it difficult for one to do the most simplest of tasks.
• Desolation: The feeling of being lonely or alone, when really you aren’t. Being a parent that has lost a child can make you feel like you are at the wrong venue. You can be in a group, and on the outside appear to belong there, but inside you feel like you are completely alone. It is true when they say that unless you have walked this walk, no one can begin to fathom the pain and loneliness that we as parents of loss feel.
• Anger: The anger seems to just continuously sit deep down inside, and has a slow roll to it, like a pot of water that is just simmering. It doesn’t seem to grow, nor shrink and it doesn’t come to the surface. Not yet anyway, but you are always cognizant of the fact that it is there. I have seen a “grief” post where it says “before you tell a grieving parent to be thankful for the children they have, think about which one of yours you could live without.” Everytime I see this line, I feel the anger in it, and I understand. I think any parent that has lost a child will always have that pool of anger lingering inside of them. Anger can also bring an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that is attached to you like another limb.
• Pain: With grief comes pain. Sometimes a pain that is so excruciating that some people may feel they are better off joining their loved ones. I have never thought that, although I have endured much pain through this process. The way to be able to handle the pain that comes with grief, is to let yourself feel it, understand it, and accept it. Every time I feel the pain from the loss of Noah, I just remind myself that if I hadn’t loved him as much as I did, I may not feel the pain so deeply. That in itself makes the pain worthwhile.

As horrible as Grief is, it does have a piece to it that is like a friend. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Grief has given me a different perspective in regards to daily interactions and life.

• Kindness: In a society that is so technology driven, we tend to forget that behind every keyboard is a human that has a story. I have to admit that I never had kindness as a “goal” before, because I thought I was kind. What I have learned is that there are many forms of kindness, and I wasn’t really cognizant of them all. Through Noah’s death and hearing from others about him, I have learned that it takes very little effort to be kind and that one act of kindness to another can be life changing. Grief has made me be less judgemental and kinder.
• Self care: Before Noah passed away, I really didn’t think about myself and what I need. Even though my boys were older, they were still my priority. The depth of grief can be like an abyss, something you could fall into and perhaps never climb your way out of. I have learned through this process that if I don’t take care of me, I won’t be any good for anyone else. I have had to make some hard choices in order for me to heal and find some peace, but ultimately I need to watch out for myself, because it is not acceptable to expect someone else to do it for you. The ultimate goal through self care is that I learn to love myself more for who I have become through loss.
• Marriage: “In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, til death do us part.” Read that again. Those are not just flippant words. They are commitment to another. Next year, Rick and I will be married 25 years, and we have lived by that commitment on more than one occasion. Through every high and every low, we have stood together, strong. They say that when a couple loses a child, they either get stronger or the marriage ends. I am forever grateful to my husband for standing beside me, catching me when I am falling, and helping me to get back up. He supports me and loves me through every good time and every bad time. Losing Noah was the worst test for our marriage, but we never faltered. We both take that commitment to heart, and we have once again come out stronger than we were before.
• Love: Love is an amazing thing. You see, love is what is so very much needed to be able to handle all the emotions from the enemy side of grief. With love, you can pass through the sadness, be pulled out of the desolation, and express the anger and frustration without fear. The love that our family has received through this tumultuous time has lifted us and carried us through some very dark days. It is so universal and healing and given freely. People that we didn’t even know reached out to us and sent us their love. It meant everything to us to know that people from around the world were keeping us in their thoughts. Others that dropped cards at our door or brought us a meal, that is love. Through this process, I have learned that it is important to tell people, not just your immediate family, that you love them. There are so many forms of love, and everyone deserves to be loved.

I am guessing that my “frenemy” and I will be together for a very long time, probably a lifetime. However, I am not going to let it rule my life, but rather I will try to live with it. If I let it take over me, then Grief has won. Since we will be together forever, I choose to continue to keep learning from it, embrace it, and love myself and my family through it. I don’t really see any other way.