Grief Has No Schedule

Nor options. Nor settings. Nor rhyme or reason.

The most innocuous of things can cause a few tears today. The same thing, two days later, may bring a smile. Two weeks from now that same item or event can bring on grief with the impact of a runaway freight train, plunging you into depths of grief that you did not know existed.

Yesterday morning it was the lines of a song. Over the weekend it was taking down Christmas decorations. Two months ago, a cedar tree in a neighbor’s fencerow. The long, long heartbroken summer and fall – everything. 

Only one place have I seen the ways of dealing with grief stated truthfully – no one can help you through this. You have to do it alone. No one can remove the pain, the unsettledness, the wants. Nor can drugs or counseling – they are at best flimsy patches on a wound that only death will heal completely.

My friend’s grief from the loss of her husband isn’t my grief. She has a different set of emotional reactions than I do. Her family dynamics are different than mine. Yes, we can discuss the loss of our husbands and how we miss them, but in the final analysis, she cannot alleviate my grief, nor can I alleviate hers. All we can do is discuss it, knowing each of us has a different reaction to our loss and a different way of mourning. We may be able brighten a dark day for each other, but the grief is still there, biding its time, watching for a moment to arise like a creature from the depths of Hades and wrap our spirit in pain we think will not end.

Today, I’m grieving but without tears and pain. I can think of Greg and all we did without dissolving into tears. Tomorrow, who knows? It may be a replay of today or I may feel on top of the world. Or one of those rough days from summer will stroll in and take possession of my emotions. 

Grief’s schedule does not coincide with my schedule. The grief will never go away, I will just deal with it differently as time passes. All I can do is endure until I have dealt with grief in my own way and in my own time. I will survive.