Saturday, December 18, 2021

Those Left Behind

 Alongside the original poem I wrote processing the changes with my Grandma, there were also changes for my Grandpa. I wrote the first part of the poem a number of years ago, while the second part is new today.


I see you there

Saying good-bye

The love of your life

No longer here

 

You try to be strong

To stand on your own

To keep it together

Your pain not exposed

 

Stand at her final place

Saying good-bye

We all stand together

To laugh and to cry

 

Disease stole her body

And then stole her mind

Yet you held on

Loving her deeply

 

Time still moves on

Though loss seems too great

The hole that she left us

Can never be filled

 

But in this we hope

She’s now with our Savior

Who loves her the most

Fully healed and restored


Thursday, December 16, 2021

Holidays and Loss

As Christmas approaches, I've been reflecting again on what it looks like when you're dealing with the loss of loved ones. It's the first Christmas that my Grandma won't be here, and while she wasn't able to be at the family gatherings for most of the last few years, she was still a part of things.

Over the last while, I've written a few poems that were part of my processing. When I wrote the last one in July, I thought that would be the end of it. But, as Christmas approaches, there was another one that I'm sharing now.

(You can find previous ones here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

Here's the one from today

Christmas approaching

Yet something feels off

Grandma, you’re missing

It doesn’t feel right

 

Decorations and nativity set

The detailed Christmas village

They remind me of you

The joy and the laughter

 

Sometimes I’m okay

And sometimes I’m not

Sometimes I’m laughing

The next time I’m crying

 

Grief is so messy

A hole in my heart

The place that you filled

A place for no other

 

Each time that I miss you

I hear all you shared

The wisdom you offered

How you pointed the way

 

I look at your picture

And see how you smile

It shows how you loved us

How you embraced life

 

Grandma, I miss you

This world just feels wrong

Without you down here

I miss you, I miss you

 

Christmas is coming

The first time without you

I want to pretend that it’s all okay

But I know that it’s not

 

I miss you so deeply

I’ll always remember

Your role in my life

The love that you shared

 

You pointed to Jesus

In all that you lived

You prayed and you loved

Just the way that you lived

 

I see your picture

I choose to let go

Trusting our Savior

Who loves us the most


Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Dealing with Grief & Loss

We don't know how to deal with grief and loss well today. As a matter of fact, we're more likely to pretend it doesn't affect us, then to actually deal with it.

I've been thinking a lot about with loss and grief in our society. And realizing just how poorly we typically deal with it.

This is something that has been front and center in my life since 2021 began. When you lose six family members and 2 coworkers to death in the span of less than a year, you become very aware of how we tend to deal with loss and grief. Really, of how we tend to just put it in a box with limits around it, expecting certain things of people.

And I'm just as guilty as anyone else at this. Or, I was before living through 2021 so far. Walking through such an overwhelming amount of loss all at once - really just going through any amount of loss at all - changes how you view it all. Or, it will change your view if you allow it to.

We expect people to have some bad days immediately following a loss. We see it as normal if there's tears and wrestling for a period of time. But, after a short time frame - which doesn't seem to have a set length - we expect people to just go back to whatever life looked like before the death and be okay.

I experienced this with the loss of my Grandma a few months ago. She was the most significant loss in the midst of all the losses to death of 2021. For the first few days, people weren't surprised that I answered questions of how I was doing by saying I wasn't doing great. But, once I answered someone once with the fact that I was having a good day - at that moment they asked - it was like that was an indication that I was over it and okay now. When I tell people I'm doing okay not great, or that I'm just having a bad day, most of the responses I get are of surprise. It's like because I had a good day, people assume I'm done grieving the loss of people I loved.

Or, we expect that because we knew the loss was coming, or it came in stages, that we should be used to things without that person already. We too easily make the assumption that if someone is still alive, but can't physically be present at an important gathering, that once they've died we'll be used to them not being around so the holiday or gathering wont' feel any different.

But, the truth is, even if that person hasn't been at the table for the holiday meal in years, the first time that holiday comes when they're gone, something is different. Someone is missing and it feels different. Knowing that loved one isn't around anymore is different at the holidays, then knowing you're going to go visit them at the care-home they're in when the meal is over, or while it cooks.

What I've learned in the 10 months of 2021, is we need to give people space to be not okay for as long as they need to be not okay when someone is dealing with loss. Grief is unpredictable and takes time. Even if we go back to most regular activities in a few days or weeks, the loss of that person still hurts. And sometimes we'll be okay and sometimes we won't be - possibly even in the same 15 minutes. 

I get why we do this. Grief is hard. It's uncomfortable and awkward. It's unpredictable and full of ups and downs. We don't always know what to say or do, so we try to just make it "normal" again. I'd prefer to pretend everything was normal again too, but it's not and pretending it is doesn't help.

So, what can we do to handle this better?

Stop expecting people to be okay for good. Let them be not okay and admit it sometimes. Let them be okay and admit that too without changing the expectation. Basically, be patient with each other. Acknowledge the hole that loss leaves. Be willing to sit in the uncomfortableness - even if you have no idea what to say, just being there makes a difference.

I'm most thankful for friends who don't get awkward when they ask how I'm doing and I start crying again. Friends who stay and listen and care.

I'm most thankful for friends whose response to a text that I'm not doing great that day is to pick me up to go for lunch and walk so I don't have to be alone.

I'm most thankful for friends who give a hug as they whisper a prayer on a day that's hard.

I'm most thankful for unexpected invitations for a visit.

I'm most thankful for friends who give hugs that are as long as I need them to be in the moment, without making it feel awkward.

I'm most thankful for friends who keep showing up - even when I'm maybe not the most fun person to be with all the time.

I'm most thankful for a boss and coworkers who make it okay not be okay all the time - even if it comes at inconvenient moments.

Those things, that my friends have done, they are things we do when we're trying to do better at dealing with grief and loss in our society. That's how we do it better.