I'll Cry if I Want To!

 

I'll Cry if I want to...and I won't if I don't!

    I, myself am guilty of passing judgement on the bereaved. Yes, you heard that right, I have, in the past, judged how others grieve based on my pre-existing impressions of how a person should behave when faced with losing someone they were close to. I say 'pre-existing impressions' because that is how my mind worked BEFORE I wore the shoes of the griever myself. 

    Between my upbringing ("Stop that crying"  "You're fine" "Never share your weaknesses with others" ) the media, (think movie scenes where folks drop to the floor and wail uncontrollably when the news of a loved one's sudden passing is delivered) and my own cultural and community beliefs ("it's unnatural for a child to die before it's parents",  "It just isn't fair, how can anyone ever recover from losing a child?" and one of my personal favorites, "Suicide is WRONG. It's a sin against God") is it any wonder that people's reaction to sudden and/or traumatic loss can be all over the board?

   

WHAT GRIEF WANTS by Vicky Edgerly

What does my grief want from me anyway?!

I recognized during my very first grief journey that my pain was something of an enigma. Even though I didn’t want it anymore, I also didn't want anyone to try and take it from me.

 I appreciated those close to me who could sit with me and my pain….those who didn’t turn away when I dropped my veil and exposed the true nature of it.  The ugliness that it was.  I appreciated those Souls who could do that…the ones who could do that silently without agendas of their own. The ones who didn’t try to take my pain away from me. Because it was MINE….it was mine alone and no one could take it.  I would learn to resent those who tried. So yes, I guarded my pain like a jealous lover.

 "I know what it wants and I surrender..."

Today, some 20 years later, I still sit alone with my pain but it looks a lot different now.  Like lovers in a longtime relationship, we both have changed a lot along the way.  It’s quieter...we know each other so well after all these years that we can sit with each other in silence.  We can just BE together in the same room without one spoken word…there is no longer a need to name it. I know what it wants of me when it shows up at my door…there is no longer a need to search for reasons….to demand answers.  I know what it wants and I surrender.  I yield to it’s needs…I walk willingly into the familiar embrace.  I allow the pain, dulled by years of experience, tamed by my own stubborn struggle to ‘not let it win’, I allow it to envelope my whole being.  I rest my head upon it’s shoulder as we embrace and I allow the full richness of the penetrating sorrow to enter my being. I ALLOW it…I understand it’s needs. 

Facing the Waters of My Youth

Facing the waters of my youth…

     I am, in fact, sitting at a table which is in front of a window facing the waters of my youth.  I am 56 years old in this moment frozen in time but I am also timeless….

Walker Pond is laid out before me…the Walker Pond of my own youth, where I played as a child during frequent visits here to my Mother’s family home.  The Walker Pond that I brought my own family to when my children were small…and the same Walker Pond that my grand children still enjoy on the less than frequent occasions that I bring them here.

     Today, I embody all of those eras and beyond….today I simply AM

As I gaze out the window, memories start to dance behind my eyes.  I can see myself as a young child fresh from the bath and in my pajamas for the night.  It’s a summer evening so there is still plenty of daylight outside.  I am savoring the pure joy of being allowed to run outside in the waning light.  That feeling that this was somehow ‘special’.  Squeaky clean and smelling of Ivory soap…hair still damp and combed neatly.  Running barefoot on the cool grass in these last few minutes of the day… sleep not far off.

     I am slightly older now, maybe 7 or 8.  My grandfather, once again, offers me a choice.  The crisp dollar bill he is holding out  in front of me or all the change he has stored in the pocket of his green Dickey work trousers.  As always, I choose the dollar bill which to my child’s mind is worth way more than coins, only to discover that the change in his pocket added up to several dollars… I fell for it again!

     I’m 18 now watching my cousin, Ernie ride his beloved dirt bike up and down the road that leads from the house to the pond. My mind lingers over Ernie for a bit, remembering.  Remembering what it was like to have this boy as our cousin and childhood playmate.  Ernie was born with a debilitating heart condition.  As children, we always knew that his life would be a short one.  Being so close to death entitled him to special consideration….we were not to ‘excite’ Ernie lest it cause him to have a heart attack.  As you can imagine, Ernie could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted since the old-fashioned types of punishments the rest of us received for naughty behaviors would not be administered to Ernie for fear of causing his failing to heart give out.

     Ernie died at 17…not long after the visit I described above.  I was pregnant with my first child at the time and living in New Hampshire which would require a 4 hour car ride should I attend the funeral services.  My family members insisted that I did not make the trip.  I was close to my delivery date and they were afraid I’d encounter problems with the stress of the travel and the solemn occasion.  Interesting how my view has changed over the last 40 years.  Back then, I went along with what all the ‘adults’ were saying.  Sitting where I am now, with the perspective I have gained over the years, I would not have given a second thought to attending and letting the chips fall where they may.

Does Time Heal All Wounds?

Choosing to survive and grow after tragedy strikes

      When I share my story with someone for the first time I am almost always greeted with the same questions; “How do you do it?  How do you survive what has happened and actually go on to use it to help others?  How is that even possible?” 

     It’s not easy for people to hear about someone losing a child, let alone losing two.  They imagine this to be the most horrible thing that could possibly happen to a family and believe that, if it were to happen to them, they simply could not endure it.  My first reply is always the same, “You’d be surprised by how much the human spirit can bear when it’s given no choice.”  While the circumstances in my life cannot be controlled, I feel that my reaction and response to them certainly can be.  I can choose to survive and even grow from these events that seem to be devastating.

The Choice is Yours

     How do I go about doing this?  It all starts with a choice.  All I can do in the early days after such a tragedy is to make a conscious choice to simply survive.  What does that actually look like in my case?  I start by offering positive affirmations to a mind that is trying so hard to make sense of the loss.  I repeat things like, “Others have come before me and have survived so I can too.”  Or, “I cannot imagine having to live with this loss for the next 30 years but I can live with it just for today”. 

If you, or someone you know seems to be struggling more than most with their grief, then it’s possible that they are resisting the process.  I would invite them to check in with themselves to see where the resistance is. 

      

     For instance, if someone is continually thinking thoughts like “This is so unfair”, then this could be blocking their ability to move into acceptance.  Every time they think it, they may have an emotionally charged response of some kind, which serves to etch that thought even deeper into their belief system.  And while it may, indeed, seem 'unfair', that doesn't change the fact that it actually happened. By focusing on these thoughts of 'unfairness' we are resisting our new reality and slowing down (or even preventing) our own healing process.

"I can choose to survive and even grow from these events that seem to be devastating" 

Good News!

     The good news is that once we identify these thought patterns, we can then consciously attempt to replace them with better, more helpful ones.  In this case, a good place to start might be to tell yourself that the fairness of the event cannot change what has happened. Over time, the mind will begin to learn the new truth.  The truth that feeling the unfairness will not change what has happened and will not allow you to move forward into acceptance.

     They say that time heals all wounds but it’s not time that does the healing.  It’s our willingness to accept what has happened that allows us to mend. Because I embrace this approach, I am often able to come to a place of acceptance much sooner, which allows me to move steadily forward down the path of true healing.

Blessings for all on this journey of life,
Vicky

*** For more of 'my story' click HERE

>> Click below to read the first installment of a series I write about my own grief journey.

Grieving Part 1_The Early Days

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www.WhiteElephantWisdom.com