GRIEF: THE MYTHS EXPLAINED

Grief is not a myth. It is real; however, there are so many ridiculous myths and platitudes surrounding grief that it bears witness to debunk three of them right now. 

Myth #1 Grief is a period of time

Before my husband died, I thought that grief was a time. I was thinking one year, maybe two at the most. Just like you, I had seen little old European grannies wearing a black headscarf, black cardigan, black shapeless skirt with black cotton stockings perpetuating the idea that grief is a period of time. Wearing black signifies to strangers that someone has died and you are remembering them with your clothing. 

The reality is that grief has nothing to do with time. Grief could certainly be timeless. Definitely seems endless. Probably not infinite but no one can say that, yet. My innocence in thinking that grief was a period of time that lasted a year is now laughable. 

Grief is NOT a period of time. People grieve on an individual schedule and each schedule is different. Grief has very little to do with time passing. 

Myth #2 Grief is crying: when you stop crying, then Grief is over

My friends and family would like this to be true. They want to feel secure and comfortable when we're together and they don't want to be on alert that I might start crying--because, of course, that would necessitate some kind of empathetic response on their part. Pardon me if I sound somewhat cynical. I have been on both sides of this debate and I know how uncomfortable I have felt when others start crying. Even though I now have a "been there, done that" scenario floating around in my head I still don't know how to react when it happens to someone else. 

If you can trust the bereaved person not to cry then everything is just back to normal, almost. You think, "Oh, good. This person is 'moving on' and her grief is over. Whew!" Well, hello! People playact all the time and those who are grieving do it most often! I rarely cry in front of others but I will be experiencing deep Grief until the day I die. You--as an onlooker--just don't need to know. I'm not advertising by wearing black nor by crying. If you ask, I will tell you. There is nothing I would rather talk about than my husband. It makes me so happy to mention his name. I really don't care if that makes you uncomfortable because it makes me joyful. 

Myth #3 It's time to get over it and move on. Get over? Move on?

A famous quote by an unknown author, "Grief is the last act of love we have to give those we have loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love." Love. Never. Dies. Neither does grief. They are like flip sides of the same coin. I know that for myself, I will be grieving deeply until my last breath. I have no concept of getting over him. What does that even mean? It's just so senseless. My husband was not a virus. I'm not "getting over" him by taking a pill or following through on any action plan. 

I do have a plan that suits my intellect and personality. I want to be happy in my days so I connect with Nature, write for employment yet pleasure, and try to be with those close to me so that my existence isn't lonely or pointless. Externally I appear totally satisfied with life and the daily machinations of reality. Internally I am grieving and I'm okay with that. It's who I am. It's what I am doing. It's a feeling inside my heart and mind that is always--always forefront of any other thought. I am Grief. 

I am also many other aspects. I am sky. I am Mom. I am Grandma-Linda. I am a teacher. I am Lucy's friend and Mike's neighbour. I am Grief. I cannot "get over" grief because it is a major part of me. I cannot "move on" from Grief, because I am Grief. It's perfectly fine for me to be Grief because I don't have any kind of monopoly on the market. There is enough Grief to go around for everyone. Same as Love. 

Truth #1 and all numbers thereafter

Grief is only the absence of Love--it bears repeating that they are flip sides of the same, exact coin. There are many people in my life who love me but it is the absence of one love that makes me who I am right here. Right now. Before, when he was alive, we were Love. Now, his absence is Grief. 

I am Grief. I am vibrantly, joyfully, gratefully alive.