The Link Between Bravery and Grief

Just one step at a time. Just breathe. You can do this. If you've done this once, you can do it again. Way to go!

Man, sometimes those timeworn cliche's really make me feel like going to sleep. So tired. So annoying. So just...used up. Certainly they never applied to me. 

Oh, I get it. If grief were a straight line, the "one foot forward" advice might be applicable. I've never found my journey into grief to be anything like a straight path, though. How about you? I'd say more like a rollercoaster. Biggest rollercoaster in the world. A rollercoaster with a notoriously bad reputation because you could fall off at any moment. 

It's midnight. Imagine a precipice. A mountain pass. Thunderstorm. Deafening crashes of thunder and brilliant intermittent lightning. Forked lightning that could easily destroy you. You're in a tippy car, careening down hairpin turns and you're trying desperately to stay on the road. Your windshield is obliterated by sheets of rain and of course, your windshield wipers don't work. In fact, all the electricals in your car seem to stop momentarily with every lightning flash. The brakes don't work and at each turn you wonder if you can even keep your vehicle from going over the edge. That's grief. 

Bravery was never really my strong point. Surprised? Most of my friends would be surprised to learn that I don't think of myself as brave. Strong, yes. Indurated, of course. Plowing ahead, always. Not brave, though. I'm more like a sponge. Robert, my husband, was brave and I soaked up my own bravery via his bravery. 

When he died I had to become brave, somehow. It wasn't easy--it never is. If you have survived a loved one's death I congratulate you on your own bravery. It takes more than guts and the desire to carry on. 

If you can imagine that your loved one is encouraging you, I think it might be a little easier to invent your own brand of bravery. I never really felt that I could give voice to Bob's opinions in that way. For instance, I could never in spiritual truth say, "I'll attend the upcoming family dinner because Bob would want me to." Or, "I'll be strong and not cry at work tomorrow because Bob would want me to." Or (and this is just not the case) "I'll look for a new person in my life because Bob would want me to."

We had never, ever discussed anything like what he would want me to do after his demise. As for me, I invented my own bravery out of the ashes of Old Me. Old Me knew she could muster enough bravery by association with my strong, brave and heroic husband; therefore, New Me could be brave as well. 

The most important thing that I learned about myself was that the earth doesn't stop spinning if I am not brave. For me, I could be a wimp sometimes and basically, nobody really cared one way or the other. I was the only one who cringed at my own cowardice. And you know what? That's okay, too. I found out that being brave, in many cases, is simply a matter of practice. 

Since my husband passed away, and forever more, I am practicing to be brave. I look to the past to draw upon strengths that I need in my present life. Since I'm a lifelong learner, I suppose you could say I'm going for my PhD in Bravery. Not planning on graduating any day soon but it does give me something to aim for. 

Bravery and grief go hand in hand.