A Good Grief

All sorrows can be borne if you put them in a story or tell a story about them.  Karen Blixen

Dana King shared with me a story about Molly Jackson, a young mother who, after losing her 2 year-old daughter, has found healing through her blog A Good Grief. 

Ms. Jackson writes "I remember thinking there is no way I would ever be able to move past the pain, that I would never find joy again. But I have.  Grief at losing a loved one isn't something you really overcome... but what you overcome is the deep feeling of self-pity and utter loss, the desire to 'give in' so that you can again live with hope."

 

Psychologists have indicated that we can only overcome trauma when we talk about it to someone who can bear witness to our loss.  Whether we've lost a loved one, or simply traveled a boulevard of broken dreams, each of us has or will experience some seemingly unendurable loss. 

A wonderful example of bearing witness has occurred over the past few weeks with this year's Resolutionary Challenge.  Each day one of the participants (some of us know each other, some don't) poses a question to which we have the opportunity to respond.  The questions range from 'What is your most memorable meal?" to "What would you regret twenty years from now if you didn't do it today?" to "What do you do when a loved one takes their life?" and "What do you daydream about?"  In answering these questions and telling our stories, we are making discoveries about ourselves.  As we have listened, there seems to be healing.  

When you and I are in a place of loss, we don't dream -- because we can't.  If we are in that place, then let us grieve, give voice to the trauma.  Our loss will gradually give way to hope, to our dreams.

For what is dreaming if not hope manifest? 

Comments

[LL]

I love Molly's blog (her family blog and a Good Grief), I think she is absolutely amazing!

[Science Teacher Mommy]

I've noticed that since I've started blogging, disastrous days are in some ways easier to bear. I write the blog post (frequently funny) in my mind while working through frustrating event. My blog started at the end of what could have been a horrible day. Instead, it is still one of my favorite posts.

[Macy]

Though Molly and I have several mutual friends, I just found her blog and A Good Grief yesterday. Such a beautiful community. I think I was most touched by the service that A Good Grief provides by raising and donating money to families who have had a child pass away to purchase a headstone. Going to the cemetery is such an important thing, and when a child dies, there are often piles and piles of medical bills, and then bills associated with the funeral services. A headstone is yet another expense. Someone donated money to the Jacksons so they could purchase a headstone for their little girl, and now they've created an entire community to help others heal and to also pay that act forward. I think it's wonderful.

[Blue]

"When you and I are in a place of loss, we don't dream -- because we can't. If we are in that place, then let us grieve, give voice to the trauma. Our loss will gradually give way to hope, to our dreams."

If this quote is true, i am excited! because somewhere along the way I lost my ability to dream, as well as that joie de vivre that i vaguely recall starting out with.

i've marveled at people who have lists of dreams that they can't wait to get to, because the best i've been able to muster is glomming onto OTHER people's dreams, and helping them come to fruition. but for years i've been aware that i need to find my own. i've just been so busy working on overcoming trauma and grieving that there hasn't been a lot of room for hope or new dreams. i didn't know that they'd come back on their own when i am ready. thanks for sharing your experience and wisdom on the matter.

[Whitney]

Blue --

Your comment, combined with something one of my friends said to me earlier this week, has given me pause.

As I think about my own grieving, and dreaming process, in addition to my honoring and giving voice to the grief, I have to keep suiting up and showing up no matter how hard.

I think that's part of the reason that I like the Resolutionary Challenge so much. It's a baby step challenge, one that helps me show up. And if I don't have it in me to show up one day, then all is not lost. Because of the way it's structured, we get to reset each morning.

Molly Jackson said something similar in her post....

"By taking things one day at a time. You face the reality and then have to say, "Ok, I'll do this one day at a time." Sometimes just one minute at a time. Get up. Take a shower. One day you actually put on your makeup. Eventually you find yourself doing things you enjoy again. I found a lot of comfort through the literal act of putting one foot in front of the other and running. It symbolized the everyday journey I will take for the rest of my life."

Thanks Blue for pushing me to think through this further!

[EHD]

My brother and his wife lost their healthy, five-year-old daughter, in her sleep, completely inexplicably. They buried her in San Diego, near a horse farm (she loved horses) and subsequently moved to Utah. On a return visit, my sister-in-law met an elderly man who had consistently visited her daughter's grave. He had never had children of his own, so he made a point of visiting each child's grave in the cemetery, keeping them clean and bringing them flowers. Such a tender gesture, to tend to little ones who are "sleeping." We can't carry others' grief, but we can hold their hands along the way.

[Amy]

Wow, what a great post, and the comments that have been made because of it. It's a tender subject knowing Becky and baby Ben are so close.

[Whitney]

One more thought after a conversation with a dear friend about grieving. There are some griefs that can be borne through the telling of stories in public, those that we all know of, such as a child dying.

But how do we write our way out/and have others bear witness to grief that we must bear alone? Grief we can never (or won't) discuss because publicly because it would be devastating to those we love.

All the harder, isn't it?