I don’t do grief well. It feels messy, out of control and weak. Grief means suffering, distress and sorrow. Who needs that? It is not that I have nothing to grieve over it is just that to go there means I would have to admit that I am hurt, I am disappointed, I am afraid, I am betrayed, I am…
Recently I was invited to visit a place of grief brought on by significant disappointment. Disappointment that meant loss of fellowship, impact and work I had, literally, poured my life into. I was left feeling stuck and wondering what does my future hold? To allow my heart to engage my grief meant I would have to admit, I was afraid. I was not wiling to do that because I was alone as well. What was I to do with myself?
As I have thought about this I realize that I’ve asked this question over and over again throughout my life. As a child I learned very quickly that there was no one who was willing to sit with me in my sadness…to grieve my heartbreak, betrayals and frustrations born out of fear. I was alone then, too with my dad’s words, “This too will pass” echoing in my heart.
Those words came out loud and clear to me as a second grader getting my tonsils and adenoids out. My recovery was long and painful. I missed over a week of school and my throat was so sore I could not talk. I was given a little green bell to ring when I needed something. I hated that bell because it meant I was alone to figure out my needs. No one was there to anticipate me.
One day I threw that bell across the room and it rebounded off the bookshelf. Immediately I felt shame and guilty. When my mother came running in I didn’t even know what I wanted or why I threw it. I was simply mad and afraid.
Today I would use the word “rage” to describe what I felt. It was the beginning of the shut down of me as the “rage” began to build a wall around my heart. The “rage” turned into an addiction with an eating disorder to quench my desire for more. It gave me an excuse to lose hope.
The day I returned to school class pictures were taken. I didn’t know that and I showed up in a brown and gold flannel checked shirt complete with my brown orthopedic shoes. I was “peaked” another term for pale and pasty…I felt out of place…I wanted to disappear…I felt caught…I felt angry. No retakes were offered. I was stuck with the picture.
So here I am as an adult still feeling the “rage”. It is much more familiar to me than to grieve that which has been lost for me. I don’t throw bells any longer yet some days I can hear’’ the tinkling of that bell resonating in my heart. My “rage” is more sophisticated. I’ve learned that “rage” can be a state of being…it sours the soul and violates the heart. And I am discovering the goodness of my grief as I have started to feel sorrow over what my recent disappointment meant in my heart. My grief is quiet, it is contemplative, it is gut wrenching, it is release, it is forgiving, it is freedom.
Yes, I believe there is more grief to be had by me. It cannot be avoided and I have a choice as to how I will engage it. It is not as scary as it used to be. There is some truth to my dad’s word, “This too shall pass”. I know I won’t get stuck there. Grief has opened the door of my heart. I have found hope for more. I believe you will too when you give good grief a chance.
 
Mary Jane Hamilton has grown to love her sense of style and her peaceful lake living. Mother of 2 and grandmother of 6, she has a wonderful capacity to love and is still active as The Tooth Fairy. She is extremely fond of her dachshunds, who rarely venture from her lap, and enjoys biking with her husband of 44 years. She is rekindling her writing skills and finding it life giving.
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Dear Mary Jane, to be so honest and real with your admittance of fear and aloneness in your time of grief opens a door for me to look at my own places of grief and disappointment. Could they be a place of goodness? You offer kinship. Your words invite. You share the possibility of life in the midst of grief. Thank you friend.
You are so welcome…still exploring more of this in my life. More continues to come into light as I realize the choices I can make for life. Miss you my friend.
I truly enjoyed reading this I also understand and appreciate your openness. Thank you!
Thanks, Scott. You are a real encouragement to me. Keep writing your Real Life blog. It is a blessing to me.
Mary Jane, your words resonated deeply with me this morning. Thank you for always being so honest with struggles and then also with victories. You truly are a blessing and an encourager. Thank you!
You are welcome, Cindy. Your words mean a lot and encourage me as I continue to discover more about living this life of truth and love. Miss you, my friend!
Wonderful writing, Mary Jane. I always enjoy and glean from them. Thank you.
Thanks, Karen for your kind words. I know you “get” where I am writing from. I am encouraged by you!
“I don’t do grief well. It feels messy, out of control and weak. Grief means suffering, distress and sorrow. Who needs that? It is not that I have nothing to grieve over it is just that to go there means I would have to admit that I am hurt, I am disappointed, I am afraid, I am betrayed, I am…” Oh my, yes. I am with you.
Your honesty and vulnerability are so stunningly inviting.
Thank You for leading the way my friend.
Grateful.
Thank you Tracy for being a friend who brings such goodness and clarity as I make my way! You are a blessing…
You write my words of grieving and Tracy’s comment, disappointed, afraid, betrayed, abandoned are the colors of the grief. I too grieved over the lose of something I had poured my life into, but alone. It was/is painful, yes, gut wrenching. I am glad and jealous that you have the release and a community to embrace you still. I too learned, but it took several years and the revealing of my OCD as I went over and over what and why. I learned about tribal mentality and the consequences of deep longing which at times leads us to compromise truth and love in favor of following and knowing the newest, brightest star. I will read your offering here a few times in hopes of giving good grief a chance.
Terry, I love your honesty and your heart. Yes, give grief a chance.
Your words “no one was there to anticipate me” spoke volumes to my heart ! Such simple words really – such impact really ! Thank you Mary Jane once again for opening up yet another door….. of your heart and mine. I so love the way you are honoring the stories that have made your the wonderful woman you are today ! Your authenticity and realness are so life giving ! Bless you dear friend ….
Thanks Elaine. I know your heart and it is a lovely one…worthy of anticipating. I love you my friend.
Reading your words yesterday impacted me so, I had to come back to them again today. I could relate to so much of what you shared. This felt like both an invitation and permission to me. Thank you again for your honesty…your authenticity…so beautiful.
Thanks Christine for you kind word. Just the thought of your sweet face makes me smile. I’m glad my invitation for grief was permission giving for you. Keep on, dear one!
Mary Jane, your writing gets right to the point and draws such allegiance with my own story. Thank you for sharing with vulnerability and insight. You awakened my heart to tender young places needed tending to. Thank you.
You are so welcome, Becky. I appreciate your feedback and your tender heart towards me. Keep on, my friend…there is so much life yet to live!
As I read your words, I connected to many places in my own story…particularly about being afraid, and alone, and wondering what you will do with yourself there? Your invitation to grief is real, without feeling like it is a place to get stuck…I love the simple truth of ” this too shall pass.”
Thanks, Janet for your words. It warms my heart to know you can identify with those painful places in mine. I do not feel so alone there today. Love you, my friend.