On Grief
ByIn no way am I an expert on grief, I’m living through grief, but I don’t know everything about it. What I do know is how grief directly relates to me and my life, my family and my heart.
It’s really all I need to know.
I often think about how I’ve learned so much about life and loss in this past year and I guess if I had to think about what I’ve learned after losing James and Jake, I would have to think that I have learned how to react to others who have experienced death and loss in their own lives. I often wonder what I would do to let others know that they are not alone in their grief now that I have lived through grief of my own.
I want to share what I know with you. I’m sharing this with you because if you take something from me that will help heal someone’s heart, than it’s the right thing to do. I just need you to understand that this is MY perspective and these are MY thoughts. These are things that have worked or have not worked for ME.
-If you learn that someone has suffered a miscarriage, do not ever, ever, ever say “at least you have other children.” Just minutes after learning of my most recent miscarriage, I was sitting in the doctor’s office waiting to schedule the D&C, the officer manager came in, offered her apologies and asked if we had children at home. Through my tears, I said “yes,” She replied with “well, see!” The fury I felt at that moment was immeasurable. It’s a thoughtless and useless thing to say.
It is wrong and you must never say it to anyone. PLEASE.
-Saying everything happens for a reason isn’t any better.
-A mother’s heart will forever be broken after a loss. My heart breaks every single day since losing James & Jake. Although the heartache is less intense than a year ago, with each day that goes by I feel further removed from these boys that we love so much which I HATE. Life is so busy, but if you can, always try to rememeber those days that mean so much to others whether it’s a due date or the date of a death.
It doesn’t even have to be an anniversary, you can reach out at any moment and I guarantee you will have greatly and positively affected this person with just a simple email.
Grief is lonely. So painfully lonely.
-Always say something. After losing James & Jake I had many people who said “I would have called or emailed but I figured you were already receiving so many calls and emails.”
For me during the darkest hours of my grief, the loneliness could have killed me, but it did not, thanks to people sending their love and thoughts with me. Each phone call or email that I received absolutely meant so much. Even emails that said “just thinking of you today.”
-Do not expect replies. I refused to talk on the phone with anyone. I could not bear to hear the sound of someone’s voice, I did not want to hear the sad and concerned tones or the words that you hear when someone dies. I did not want someone to ask me how I was doing and have to lie and say “I’m fine.” Because I was not. I did not want to get on the phone with someone and have the conversation move to something trivial like broken dishwashers and sales at Target because during that time? That stuff did not matter to me and the only thing on my mind was the pain I was feeling. The deep, intense, tangible pain.
My soul sister would call me almost everyday and leave a voicemail that went something like this “just checking in, letting you know I was thinking of you. If I can do anything, let me know. I love you. You don’t have to call me back, unless you WANT to.”
It took me three weeks to return her call. Her calling me was not about her, it was about me.
I have received hundreds of emails that I have never replied to because it’s just too hard, which sounds like a cop out, but it’s not. Every email is read, over and over again, but I just can’t reply.
-It’s okay to just say “I’m sorry.” Because you are and those words are real.
-Don’t be shy. I have been so impressed with people who have brought up James and Jake when there was something on their mind, or when someone asks a question directly relating to them. It breaks the ice and it means you are thinking of them and it’s such a relief for people like me who want them in their lives so badly. I’ve had people ask me if they could memorialize James and Jake in their own way, people who I have never met. I admire these people who feel it in their heart to just ask their difficult question or share their intimate thoughts, I have learned a lot from such people.
-Just listen. If feelings are shared with you, keep them close to your heart and think about what’s been said. Be trusting with what you’ve heard. Being a good listener is a beautiful thing, a precious gift.
There is more, but I can’t articulate it properly right now, but I will.
Although it’s been over a year since losing James and Jake and even though the sun in shining and my children are singing, I still know what I do not have under my roof and in my arms right now. The coos, the diapers, the sleepness nights, the sound of laughter coming out of their perfect little mouths, the kisses, the chubby fat rolls…their beautiful personalities aren’t here.
And I feel it. Every single day.
Sending some love your way my friend. I think about you always and know that one day, we will meet in person. If ever you want that soft place to fall, I am only an email away.
I think this is the third time I have tried to leave a comment on this entry so if it shows up somewhere three times I am so sorry.
This was a wonderful entry. I have done similar entries in the past but am glad to see someone else do one as well. It is a public service to help people know what to say or what NOT to say.
I am so sorry for your loss. I will not say I know how you feel I can only say I know I how felt and it sucked!
Please feel free to visit.
http://mymonthlyheartbreak.blogspot.com/
Thanks for this post. I was directed here by another friend. I really needed it today. Today my best friend’s husband finally lost his battle with brain cancer after a 12 year struggle. She is only 37. I don’t know what to say to her, but your post helped me really think.
Thanks for such a well-said post. After having two miscarriages last year, I have been comforted by the people who said the right things, or maybe just didn’t say anything…specific, that is. I was comforted by the calls, by the visits, by the cards. I’m not so comforted by awkward silences, or people trying to sound bright and cheery (ie, lady in your doctor’s office…grrrr). I’m sure you spoke to many of your readers hearts in this post.
Thank you SO MUCH for sharing this. I always appreciate when people articulate what helps/doesn’t help them in their grief, so I can minister to my friends better. A friend of mine just suffered her 2nd miscarriage in 2 years, and has a little girl, and I can’t imagine saying, “At least you have her.” I’m glad you shared that. I have said, “God has a plan in this”, but I do feel like it’s taken as a cliche at the time, and probably not the right thing to say. I also love your comments about emailing/calling, but not expecting the person to return the calls, that’s such a great thing to know.
One question for you: I often start to say/type something like: “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine your pain” and what I mean by that is that I feel for them & my heart breaks for them, so I can’t imagine the level of heartbreak that they’re feeling, but since I’ve never been through that same grief they’re going through, does it sound like I’m saying that I can’t imagine their pain because I’ve never been through it, in a stuck up way? I guess what I’m asking is, would the above statement encourage you or bother you? Thanks for posting this, so much – praying for your family!
Beth, I’ve learned so much from your grief and the open heart you have had during the past year. I’ve learned to be a better friend for those that I love who are experiencing this immeasurable pain. You have helped more people than you know with your honesty. Love to you, girl.
Great, great post. Thanks for sharing your wisdom and experiences.
Your loss just breaks my heart. I hate that people are insensitive and I hate that you don’t have your babies here with you.
I wish this post would have been around 3 1/2 years ago when my family was dealing with the crime my brother committed. Sure, we didn’t lose our loved one to death, but it was very similar… if not worse in some ways. And then again when my Mother tried to kill herself. People just ignored our pain, because it was awkward for them, I’m sure.
I can’t believe someone would say to you that at you have other children! How heartless! And how disconnected. If they were really living in your moment, they would never say such a thing.
And I couldn’t agree with you more about this one, “-Saying everything happens for a reason isn’t any better.”
Everything doesn’t happen for a reason, in my opinion. Good can come out of pain, but to say it happens for a reason means that death was somehow God’s plan. And God would never take your babies from you and put you through that!
Nell
I was directed to your blog through another blog, and I came here expecting great pictures.
I did not expect to read about your loss. I am so sorry. I don’t have any words to express my feelings right now, but yours posts made me cry uncontrollably.
I hope your heart finds peace.
By some miracle, I found this post when looking up ways to cope with grief. I’ve been through my fair share of grief, and am going through it yet again.
I will never forget our lost babies, and the pain will never fully go away. Your advice is priceless and perfect. People don’t realize that we WANT to remember.
Now I am struggling to reconcile the loss of my grandmother, who was as much a mom to me as anyone else. She was my best friend.