Saturday, July 20, 2013

Grief looks different from this side of the fence...

Oy, these posts can be so emotional to write. =)

In light of my last post being somewhat dramatic, I want to address the subject of grief and how it wasn't anything like I expected.

I've lost loved ones before, a grandfather that I was close to and an aunt who was the closest thing I've had in my life to a second mother. One was somewhat expected and the other was somewhat not. I experienced sadness when they died. I still miss them and sometimes I cry when I talk about them.

This is grieving. 

In losing my precious twin sons, however, I have experienced a completely different kind of grief, the kind that comes when you experience a loss that leaves a gaping hole in your life. If my previously losses were like the prick of a pin, this is like a hole made with a sledge hammer. (I may elaborate on this analogy in a later post.)

I don’t know that there is a specific criterion for what kind of loss you have to have to experience this kind of grief, but I do know that most of the mothers I've come in contact with who have experienced the kind of loss I have had feel similar. I also know that when my aunt died, my cousin experienced the same kind of gaping hole in her life. Until you've been through it, it’s hard to understand.

I had different ideas of what this kind of heart-wrenching grief would be like before I experienced it myself (and probably some because of the use of words like "heart-wrenching" and analogies to sledge hammers.) Maybe I pictured more of the heart-broken, teenage-girl variety, where you throw yourself onto your bed and sob for a while and then pine away in your bedroom for days.

And really, it does sound dramatic to hear people say things like, “It’s hard for me to get out of bed every day.” It’s the truth, but it’s not that dramatic. Living with a gaping hole in your life is just so exhausting. It’s hard to get out of bed when you're just tired.

So tired.

In a tired fog.

This was one of the effects I experienced. What I didn't experience was a lot of tear-filled days. Don't get me wrong, I burst into tears at strange times and had an emotional, on-the-verge-of-tears-all-day day every couple weeks. BUT it wasn't every day and even if you put all those days together it wasn't that many.

I think about my twins every day, but I also have plenty to keep me going in all directions (husband, two older kids, housework, church callings, extended family) and so the grief translated into irritability at times. For months, it took a great amount of concentration to get through my daily tasks and so interruptions were frustrating. Also frustrating was any sort of interruption that yanked me out of a deep thought, which was often.

Perhaps more crying would have been better than being short of temper. I have done a lot more yelling than I'd like to admit, but we'll save guilt for another post.

I guess my point in sharing all this is that grief doesn't always look the way we imagine it to look. Sometimes it's hard to recognize when you are experiencing it and sometimes you might not realize when someone else is in a really tough place because their grief doesn't look like you expect it to.

If you're there or someone you love is there, please give yourself or those you love time to figure the grief out and don't beat yourself up if your grief turns out looking different than you expected.

1 comment:

  1. Beautifully written Michelle. I'm going to share this with a friend of mind who just suffered a terrible loss. And having gone through a hard loss myself. While you are able to cope with the gaping hole that remains as time goes on, the fact is that it remains. Nothing can every replace the hole, it will be a wound in your heart for life. The only thing that is different is you are able to manage the exhaustion and grief in a more "humane" way... sometimes. :)

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