Did you ever have one of those Aha! moments? Well, I did the other day. It didn’t exactly happen all of a sudden; it kind of continued to reveal itself to me as it was happening. It was like a holyshitIcan’tbelieveIamjustnowrealizingthis kind of thing, and it was brilliant. My mom and I were having a discussion about the expectations in grief- the ones we put on ourselves. Here is the story of my epiphany…
As most of us likely do, we compare our grief to the other grievers around us- past or present. My mom has certainly been looking at hers and wondering if she should be “further” along/why she is still grieving so intensely? I have been looking at mine and wondering why I appear to not be grieving more deeply? I loved (love) my dad with every fiber of my being- there is no question about that, so it seemed natural to me that I “should” (there’s that crazy word) be crying more, or angry more, or just overall way more sad than I appear to be. And it’s crazy for either one of us to be questioning these things. We understand that intellectually. But it’s the nature of the beast.
Mydadisinhospice anticipatory grief to my now in full swing grief has ebbed and flowed. However, I strongly recall having moments of absolute peace in my heart even when my dad’s body continued to attack him and I had no idea where that feeling was coming from. I even mentioned it a couple of times to my mom. Just a little more than a year later, and I still am able to get through most days with relative ease. Don’t get me wrong, I am fully capable of dropping to my knees in a puddle on the floor in complete agony and missing-ness, but on the whole there is a peace to my grief. And that’s when the thoughts and words started to connect. The way in which I am grieving speaks to the nature of the relationship I had with my dad. It was calm, relaxed, and moved with ease. As I began to explain this to my mom, I could see a look of deeply rooted knowing move across her face. Of course. It made perfect sense. We began to look at the dynamic of relationship and grief among others who loved my dad, and we continued to see a link.
The scientific community and the metaphysical/spiritual community both know and agree that energy exists- beyond what the human eye can see. And that energy doesn’t die. It adapts, moves, and changes. Yes, my dad died. But the energy that we shared and moved between us didn’t. It had to go somewhere. It just simply took on another form- by way of my grief. I still very much carry the energy of my relationship with my dad. No, it’s not the way I would prefer it to be, but it is there. And that’s some pretty fucking powerful stuff.
So no more judgement. No more comparing. My grief is exactly what it is supposed to be. And yours is exactly what yours is supposed to be. The. End.
*Perhaps a psychology journal will publish my revelation…*