What do you do when someone close to you is in grief?
I don't know why I started writing about grief so soon when my father passed away last fall. I felt I needed to do something. Something in me had suddenly stopped, and I was reaching deep inside to turn it back on. I can't say everyone in my life showed up appropriately. It's not my place to judge anyone. Maybe I didn't even show up appropriately. But, I was looking for my Dad in every moment I was experiencing, trying to make sense of it all. Some people sent me flowers; some people sent cards. If you know me, you know I hate talking on the phone, but one of my dear friends just kept calling to check in—she still is. I think I may have appreciated that the most because she is willing me not to run from it. Her presence reminds me that you don't need to be gifted to show empathy. Empathy is within us all.
With this in mind, I felt compelled to share what grief is like—the feeling and movement of it, the heartbreak and texture of all the layers it unravels. I intend that this account of my personal experience gives us an outline of how to show up better for others in their time of grief.
I think we need better conversations around loss-- not just conversations about how to cope but also how to live and show up for ourselves again fully. Especially in these mind-blowing times where most everyone you know has been personally affected by death. Coping to me is existing despite the void. I want to find a way to feel full inside like I did before.
Someone asked me how to show up for someone in grief. Honestly, I don't know. It depends on the person.
I think grief unacknowledged can be problematic. But, how you address it will depend on your specific relationship. What has been helpful for me is my husband just being a shoulder whenever I need it. He has never judged me for my experience with grief and how it manifests for me. He reminds me often that it is good to cry sometimes, and I accept his grace.
I appreciate my clients who have given me space to process my journey with this. I have learned it truly takes a special kind of person to acknowledge your pain and offer you space. I say this now because I have experienced the opposite in my work. For all the spirituality and energetic space I open to be in service to others, it's often not enough. Trauma has a funny way of putting the unhealed in competition for the winner of the "most hurt" award. Some have no real regard for the cost or frame of reference to drop everything emotionally in your experience to become a vessel to offer healing. In lack, our fear creates unrealistic demands, excessive pressure, and prodding born of curiosity. Somehow I have become to the test tube experiment for grief, which doesn't always feel good.
COVID-19...Not feeling forced or obligated to spend time with people had been good for me.
If not for COVID, the circumstances would have significantly differed, and connection would have been more urgent than it is right now. COVID spared me the headache of the service being dragged out for a few more days. It also spared me having to attend anything else that may have been held in my Dad's honor. That's obviously not any reflection of how I felt about my Dad but more so how I feel about being obligated to do things that force conversation. I learned that everyone has different beliefs about loss and the timing of grief. And, interestingly, many people believe their presence alone can heal you. The elders like to reminisce and often, a little too often in the beginning, and some are just awkward about the entire experience. Without the quarantine, I would have had an endless trail of tears going to and from my house, and I am grateful that aspect was avoided.
Grief is its own little #metoo moment. As much as some people want to run to help you and force you to talk about it. There's nothing like sharing space with someone that knows exactly how you feel. Words seem so labored in grief. My husband and I lost our father's eight months apart. He knew my pain because he still grieved his father when he lost his father-in-law. This circumstance has been an interesting and critical part of healing. I believe that without the shared experience, we would have been at risk for drifting apart, or maybe there would have been more pressure for me to get myself together more quickly. There's only one other person that I interact with almost daily that has experienced grief on this level. Ease comes naturally with people that have shared experiences. There is maturity in the way that you show up for each other. I think these people must be the most vocal, the most available. They become your guiding lights, if in no other way, energetically.
This has been my thought process so far…
Acceptance. When I first got the news, I remember I said, "okay." I don't know that there was anything else to say. It was apparent that my mother had already lost her mind, and my brother was having difficulty standing. There was a whole team of emergency responders there on the scene, and everything felt crowded. After telling my husband, I briefly spoke with my mom and called my grandmother. I left shortly after with a promise to return in the morning.
Worry. A dear friend cleared my schedule so that I wouldn't have to call anyone. Though I was anxious about not showing up for my clients, I knew I needed to take a few days to settle everything. A pet peeve of mine is not showing up on time, but naturally, everyone understood. I also worried if I would still be able to do the gig. As I said before, I don't think people that aren't empathic understand how much you must open yourself to receive from Spirit. Trying to close yourself off feels natural when you have been gutted. What if I couldn't read for people anymore? Ironically, a few months before, I had pondered this very question should something happen.
Nothingness. That night I sat for hours with a feeling of just being numb. I couldn't think of anything really; it was just nothing. Sometime after midnight, I finally cried and cried until sleep came.
Finality. In the days that followed, all I wanted to do was finalize anything that required my approval or attention. Nothing was more important than scheduling everything and making obligatory phone calls as necessary.
See you later…. The service relieved some pressure of anticipating being there. I mean, this all happened during a pandemic. Hence, there was dealing with my feelings, absorbing everyone's emotions (cuz empathy gives you no days off), and the concern for COVID when considering all of the people I would be facing. As restricted as I thought the service should be, it didn't happen that way at all. Many people came out to pay their respects, and I felt like I was holding my breath the entire time. People believe touch in some way absorbs the grief, but it honestly just created a lot of anxiety.
There's no standard way to show up for someone experiencing the most challenging parts of their journey. But only do so up close if you can be open to whatever state of grief you find them in. I found that cards, books, flowers, and sweets, were all helpful in where I have been and where I will find myself later. Above all, losing my father left me with a sense of abandonment after the dust settled. It was nice for people to reach out more often and in different ways. Long after the service is over, the friend or loved one in your life in grief still has a hole where their person they lost filled. It has been about six months now since I have been able to call my Dad. Our last call was a FaceTime, and I am so glad that I allowed him to speak his truth that last day. I have never gone six months of my life without talking to my Dad, so it's different.
Instead of filling the gap where someone has lost, get busy finding out what your people mean to you while they are here. Take your time and soak up every single moment. Though my Dad has shown up in meditations and dreams, I will never again experience him the same way I did when he was here.
Grief is hard, but we also have joy. Remember, the joy of giving to others in whatever way helps you to realize more of yourself and connects you to love. You will find your way in grief, and support, just like I am finding mine.
If you are looking for support and a gentle roadmap out of grief or want to get specific about supporting someone dealing with loss, schedule time with me here.
And, check out these episodes of the podcast: