Honoring Grief

Is it possible to actually feel your heart breaking? It sometimes feels that way when a loved one passes away.  The term “heartbreak” may be intended as a metaphor, but today it feels like a physical manifestation of my grief.

I felt this heartbreak 12 years ago when I said goodbye to a treasured friend. Then, just over 2 years ago, I walked alongside another dear friend on his journey toward death. And now, once again, my heart aches after a final visit with a sister-friend who left this earth just days ago.

There’s something unique about grieving for a friend. You’re not bound by family ties, instead, you’ve chosen to be in each other’s lives. Some people call their friends their chosen family. People with whom you’ve chosen to share moments of laughter, vulnerability, and maybe some secrets. They are the ones we think will always be there – until they’re not.

I’m not afraid of death. My faith and my lived experiences assure me of the ongoingness of life. But even though I believe that death is not the end, I also know that the pain of missing their physical presence is real.

We all will face grief of some kind, though everyone will experience grief differently. I’ve come to believe that when someone passes judgment on another person’s grieving experience by imposing their own expectations or timelines, it often stems from their own unease with confronting grief. Sometimes it’s easier to nudge someone to ‘move on’ rather than sit with the discomfort of their pain.

But I refuse to buy into what I call “grief discomfort,” either as the giver or the receiver. Grief is not a burden. It is a profound expression of love that deserves to be honored. Our grief deserves space to take shape and evolve. I don’t subscribe to the notion that grief will occur in neatly formed stages or any predetermined formula. No, I choose to embrace the messy, unpredictable path of grieving.

I want to be awake to my grief and see what form it takes today and then tomorrow. I want to see how my grief brings back memories and breathes life into special moments. I want to honor my friend  -- and all my loved ones who have made this journey -- by honoring my grief.

Grief is not static. It evolves, shifts, and takes different shapes over time. I know my heart won’t ache forever. I know that because I’ve traveled this road before. Yet, I won’t rush the process or set artificial timetables on my grief.

Instead, I will experience my grief, knowing that through the unfolding of that experience, I will find healing.

Photo Credit: Patrick Jackson