I like to read, and to write, about how there is Hope after loss.
Because there IS.
But.
I also read, write, and gravitate to those words that are not uplifting and full of positivity.
Why?
Grief comes with a whirlwind of emotions.
Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Confusion. Numbness. Frustration. Annoyance. Irritation. Love. Laughter.
Not all good emotions.
Not all bad emotions.
It’s a wild mixture that mostly, well . . . makes NO sense!
And it is all over-stimulating, over-whelming, disorienting – leading to questions of “Am I normal?” or at least, “Is THIS normal?”
I remember Rick’s often words to me – “Honey, “normal” is the setting on the dryer!”
He was true and right in those years of raising our kids and building our life – He is more right now.
But, yes.
This wild ride of emotions as a widow IS “normal”.
And those mixed up emotions NEED validation, they NEED a witness.
Just so you know that you know –
Yes, this hurts.
Yes, this is unfair.
Yes, this devastation is real.
Having validation for your emotions, having a witness for this grief walk –
Is grounding.
It centers you.
It reassures you that your feelings are not just “normal”, they are justified.
You do not have to hide your pain.
You do not have to pretend all is well.
You do not have to hold your tears.
As a Griever, we all need to know that we are allowed to grieve!
There is no easy way to fix what we are going through.
Honestly? I don’t think there is a way at all to fix it!
So I cannot give you words more than these:
“I do not have the right words for this. It is awful. I am so sorry.”
This is the space with me, for you and for your grief, to exist without judgment or expectation.
This is your safe place.
This is the witness to your grief.
I know people try to offer solutions or find some kind of silver lining for all this, their attempt to somehow ease the pain.
“At least they lived a good life.”
“They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“You will move on and find happiness again.”
But what people who are not Grievers do not realize –
These words have a cruel way of diminishing the magnitude of my loss.
If someone, a witness to my grief, acknowledges the terribleness of it all –
It honors the love I had, I have, with Rick.
It reinforces my connection to and with Rick, even in death.
It assures me that my pain is seen and understood.
There is something amazing, beyond words, when someone stands beside me in my sorrow, instead of trying to push/pull me out of it.
There is something so needed about having a witness to my grief.
A witness who does not insist on taking away my pain and sorrow – they can’t, anymore than they can take away the love and joy I had as Rick’s wife.
A witness gives Hope that makes me feel less lonely.
A witness quietly says, “You do not have to carry this burden alone.”
May we be witnesses to one another.
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