Gary Roe's Blog, page 12

When Loss Leads to Spiritual Fatigue and Numbness

Loss hits us on every level. The grief journey is exhausting. Spiritual fatigue and numbness can set in. The following article is adapted from Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child. No matter what your loss, chances are you can relate to much of the following…

“Everything good seems far away. I’m emotionally and spiritually paralyzed. I feel dead inside,” Jack shared.

Jack’s daughter Chloe was a daddy’s girl. She clung to Jack wherever he went. He adored her.

Chloe grew up in a stable and loving home. She confronted the usual, daunting challenges teens face and emerged from them fairly unscathed. She married her high school sweetheart. They had three kids, two boys and a girl.

One day Chloe was returning from grocery shopping. A thunderstorm had been raging for hours. Chloe’s car hydroplaned, and she lost control. She was killed in a multi-car pile-up. She was 34.

“Dads protect their daughters, but I couldn’t protect her,” Jack said, gazing into my eyes.

DEEP LOSS CAN PRODUCE SPIRITUAL NUMBNESS

After a terrible, deep loss like this, many report a sort of spiritual numbness or fatigue. Trying to make sense of what appears to be senseless can be spiritually exhausting.

All of us have a faith of some kind, even if it’s not clearly defined. We all believe something about ourselves, life, the world, God, the spiritual realm, and the afterlife. In tough times, most of us either lean heavily on our faith, begin to question it, or both.

Some deaths raise deep questions. We search for answers. Our emotions are varied, complicated, and frustrating. It’s easy to become spiritually frustrated too. We experience overwhelm, and spiritual fatigue sets in.

We engage in our usual spiritual activities, whatever they might be, or perhaps we distance ourselves from them. As with the rest of life, we might find ourselves going through the spiritual motions, but feeling little to nothing. What was once powerfully meaningful can now seem dull, drab, and empty.

We can become spiritually numb. This isn’t necessarily negative, but rather the natural result of having our hearts shattered and experiencing grief overload over a period of time.

Spiritual numbness can protect us. It can provide a much needed break from the intense emotional assault and the incessant search for answers. This numbness can be a valuable spiritual rest stop along the grief highway. For most, it’s a temporary state. We pause there for a while, and then re-engage when we’re ready. We all need rest— not just physical, but spiritual as well.

For some, spiritual numbness can be unnerving and frightening. In most cases, however, this is a natural part of the grief process about which we can say, “This too shall pass.”

“Losing you is spiritually exhausting. I’ll honor you by taking my heart seriously.”

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER: Have you experienced spiritual fatigue or numbness in your grief process? If so, what was it like? How did you respond to being spiritually numb? What seemed to help, and what didn’t?

Adapted from the Best Book Awards Finalist and Amazon Bestseller, Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child. View the brief Shattered videos here: Michelle, Gary.

Additional Recommended Resources:

10 Spiritual Truths About Loss and Healing – Belief Net

10 Myths About Grief Most of Us Believe – Belief Net

Grief Fatigue: When Exhaustion Becomes a Way of Life – The Grief Toolbox

When Grief Leads to Spiritual Fatigue and Numbness

Loss hits us on every level. The grief journey is exhausting. Spiritual fatigue and numbness can set in. The following article is adapted from Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child. No matter what your loss, chances are you can relate to much of the following…

“Everything good seems far away. I’m emotionally and spiritually paralyzed. I feel dead inside,” Jack shared.

Jack’s daughter Chloe was a daddy’s girl. She clung to Jack wherever he went. He adored her.

Chloe grew up in a stable and loving home. She confronted the usual, daunting challenges teens face and emerged from them fairly unscathed. She married her high school sweetheart. They had three kids, two boys and a girl.

One day Chloe was returning from grocery shopping. A thunderstorm had been raging for hours. Chloe’s car hydroplaned, and she lost control. She was killed in a multi-car pile-up. She was 34.

“Dads protect their daughters, but I couldn’t protect her,” Jack said, gazing into my eyes.

DEEP LOSS CAN PRODUCE SPIRITUAL NUMBNESS

After a terrible, deep loss like this, many report a sort of spiritual numbness or fatigue. Trying to make sense of what appears to be senseless can be spiritually exhausting.

All of us have a faith of some kind, even if it’s not clearly defined. We all believe something about ourselves, life, the world, God, the spiritual realm, and the afterlife. In tough times, most of us either lean heavily on our faith, begin to question it, or both.

Some deaths raise deep questions. We search for answers. Our emotions are varied, complicated, and frustrating. It’s easy to become spiritually frustrated too. We experience overwhelm, and spiritual fatigue sets in.

We engage in our usual spiritual activities, whatever they might be, or perhaps we distance ourselves from them. As with the rest of life, we might find ourselves going through the spiritual motions, but feeling little to nothing. What was once powerfully meaningful can now seem dull, drab, and empty.

We can become spiritually numb. This isn’t necessarily negative, but rather the natural result of having our hearts shattered and experiencing grief overload over a period of time.

Spiritual numbness can protect us. It can provide a much needed break from the intense emotional assault and the incessant search for answers. This numbness can be a valuable spiritual rest stop along the grief highway. For most, it’s a temporary state. We pause there for a while, and then re-engage when we’re ready. We all need rest— not just physical, but spiritual as well.

For some, spiritual numbness can be unnerving and frightening. In most cases, however, this is a natural part of the grief process about which we can say, “This too shall pass.”

“Losing you is spiritually exhausting. I’ll honor you by taking my heart seriously.”

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER: Have you experienced spiritual fatigue or numbness in your grief process? If so, what was it like? How did you respond to being spiritually numb? What seemed to help, and what didn’t?

Adapted from the Best Book Awards Finalist and Amazon Bestseller, Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child. View the brief Shattered videos here: Michelle, Gary.

Additional Recommended Resources:

10 Spiritual Truths About Loss and Healing – Belief Net

10 Myths About Grief Most of Us Believe – Belief Net

Grief Fatigue: When Exhaustion Becomes a Way of Life – The Grief Toolbox

What to do when Grief Paralysis strikes

Loss strikes the heart. The resulting grief can feel paralyzing at times. This post, adapted from the book Aftermath: Picking Up the Pieces After a Suicide, tells the tale many of us are familiar with – feeling stunned and stuck. No matter what your loss might be, most likely you can relate to the Grieving Heart below.

“Constant questions and countless flashbacks took their toll. I was paralyzed.” – S.B.

FROM THE GRIEVING HEART:

I feel frozen. Stuck. Paralyzed.

The world is moving, but I’m not. I’m going through the motions. I walk in a daze.

I find myself staring at walls. I can’t move. It’s like my heart has been anesthetized.

My emotions are so intense. I’m often hijacked and overcome by them. My feelings are so strong, they have taken over my life.

I can see everything, but I’m not participating somehow. I’m different now. I just exist, and my existence is painful and scary.

This is truly awful.

Grief is paralysis can be frightening.

After a traumatic loss like this, our emotions can overwhelm us.

We need breaks from the intensity. Feeling all the grief at once might even kill us. Our hearts and minds combine their efforts to protect us. When the emotional overwhelm gets to be too much, they shut down. We can feel temporarily frozen or paralyzed. We can handle only so much.

This internal paralysis can be frightening. Perhaps we’ve never experienced anything like it before. Rest assured this frozen feeling is common for those who have endured a death by suicide.

Again, this paralyzed, stuck feeling is temporary. Your heart and mind are trying to find space to breathe amid all the heaviness. You need breaks from the intensity of the grief. Your system acts to protect you when things get to be too much.

Keep breathing deeply. You will get through this, though at times you wonder how. Feeling stuck or frozen honors the one you lost. Your heart is expressing itself. Be patient with yourself and give your heart room to grieve.  

Affirmation: When I feel frozen and paralyzed, I’ll remind myself that this is common. My heart needs breaks from the intensity of the grief.  

CONSIDER:

If you’re feeling emotionally paralyzed, please know that this is common in cases of difficult loss. You’re stunned and overloaded. Emotions crowd together, and the heaviness of it all can temporarily shut you down.

Here are some things you might tell yourself when you feel paralyzed:  

• It’s okay that I’m feeling paralyzed right now.

• I will not always feel this way. This is temporary. It will pass.

• I will breathe deeply and focus on my breathing.

• I will think of one thing I can do to care for myself and then do that.  

You have reason to feel paralyzed from time to time. It fits the gravity and pain of what happened. Be kind to yourself.

Adapted from Aftermath: Picking Up the Pieces After a Suicide . Watch the brief book video here.

Additional Recommended Resources:

7 Tips to Getting Unstuck in Grief and in Life – Thrive Global

7 Tips for When You Feel Numb and Empty – www.garyroe.com

I Feel Trapped Sometimes – The Grief Toolbox

“It’s Not Getting Any Easier!”

The grief process is an exhausting marathon. One loss often leads to another, and then another. This post, taken from Heartbroken: Healing from the Loss of a Spouse, talks about the ongoing, frustrating pressure many grieving hearts feel. No matter what your loss, I’ll bet you can relate to Marlene below…

It’s Surprising How Deep Grief Can Go

“This isn’t what I expected. It’s not getting any easier. In fact, the longer it goes, the harder things seem,” Marlene said.

“I had no idea what I was facing. The reality of Carl’s death is setting in over time. It gets heavier every day.”

Once you begin to grieve, it’s surprising how deep it can go. As time goes on, the extent of your loss begins to sink in. Your spouse was connected to everything in your existence. You’re not enduring just one, but a multitude of losses.

This is why many run from grief. They stuff their emotions and self-medicate. But this only harms them and their relationships.

Grief is real and must be felt. It demands our attention.

Take a moment and look to your heart. Notice what’s there. Acknowledge the emotions.

One of the great lessons of grief is that life can only be lived one moment at a time.

“Everything feels so heavy. You mean even more to me than I knew.”

“(Grief ) is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.” — Earl Grollman

Adapted from the award-winning Heartbroken: Healing from the Loss of a Spouse. Watch the brief book video here.

Additional Recommended Resources:

Comfort for the Grieving Spouse’s Heart: Hope and Healing After Losing Your Spouse – Amazon

Grief Walk: Experiencing God After Losing a Loved One – Amazon

10 Myths About Grief Most of Us Believe – Belief Net

3 Reasons Every Grieving Heart Can Be Encouraged

Last week I received word that one of my books, Teen Grief: Caring for the Grieving Teenage Heart, was the winner of a 2018 Book Excellence Award.

As I read the email, I sat there for a moment, stunned. Then, I sighed. Tears came into my eyes.

Somebody noticed. Someone had taken pain, suffering, and grief seriously. A committee of people that I don’t know decided that how teens are impacted by and deal with loss, death, and disaster matters. I choose to think that hearts were touched, and that Teen Grief being honored in this way is the result.

The Book Excellence Award team decided to throw a spotlight on us and our struggles. Granted, we aren’t teens anymore, but I think you know what I mean. Grief was recognized. That’s huge.

As grieving people, we often feel invisible. No one seems to understand. Few appear to care. Everyone is eager for us to be better and get back to our old selves again.

But that’s not going to happen. Our world has changed. Our hearts have been hit. We’re different now. We’re traveling a road that few are willing to join us on. At best, even helpful people only step in and out of our pathway as they wish. For us, however, this new road is our life.

 

Loss can be painful, but we can still be encouraged

So, I’m encouraged, and thankful. Here are 3 reasons why…

#1 Grieving and its difficulties are being recognized and appreciated more and more.

Grief is in the spotlight, at least for a little while. Perhaps as we keep talking, the message that it’s okay to hurt, struggle, and grieve will spread. Maybe as we keep serving, even while hurting, others will sense that emotional pain can be experienced, processed in healthy ways, and used for good somehow.

 

#2 As we grieve well, others will follow.

We all experience loss, yet so few grieve in healthy ways that lead to healing and hope. Yes, I know the world doesn’t exactly cry with us, enter our mess, or support our broken hearts. Yet, I can’t help but believe that – as each one of us reading this chooses to grieve with honesty, respect, integrity, and compassion – that more will join us. As we model good grieving, others will notice. I believe they will follow. The impact will be natural and lasting. The healing and good experienced over time will be staggering.

 

#3 Hope is always present, though pain can blind us to it.

Yes, I’m an optimist. Ironically, pain has taught me to be one. I’ve learned to dig deep and find hope even when it appears that none exists. Hope is always present, but the pain of loss can often blind us to it.

Enough musing. Go figure. All that from a book award.

My message today is basically this: Be encouraged. Love and compassion are out there. I know this is true because (picture me pointing at your heart) love and compassion are in there.

Together, we can do this. One moment, one step at a time.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your grief journey. It’s truly an honor.

In celebration of Teen Grief’s selection as a 2018 Book Excellence Award Winner, we’re offering autographed copies at 40% off through July 20. Click here and grab yours. Grab some for others you know (parents, teachers, coaches, school counselors and administrators, church staff, youth workers).

In addition, I’m throwing in a FREE (yes, free) copy of Saying Goodbye: Facing the Loss of a Loved One in each Teen Grief order during this special sale. Please read this brief, beautifully illustrated gift book and then give it away. Reach out and make that little gesture that can mean so much.

I feel it. Together, we’re making a difference already!

If you’re new to my site, thanks so much for stopping in. I hope you’ll stay awhile and see what’s here. Chances are, like the rest of us, you’re hurting or know someone who is. I’m here to help. Please check out the free gifts I’ve prepared for you. You are not alone.

 

 

5 Quick Truths for Managing Heavy Loss

When we lose someone we love, our world is upended. Our hearts shake. We’re stunned. Our lives changed in an instant. Dealing with all the changes loss and grief bring is hard work.

 

From the Grieving Heart:

I miss you. Badly.

I have one of your voicemails saved. I find myself listening to it over and over. I can’t believe you’re gone.

How did this happen? Why? Why you?

I keep asking the same questions. My mind runs around the same track, again and again. I feel like I’m going in circles.

And yet, I’m going nowhere. I’m barely moving at all. I go from thing to thing, person to person, without seeing anything. I’m a shadow, flitting in and out of what the rest of the world calls “normal life.” 

What’s normal now? Nothing. Everything has changed. I don’t like this world anymore because you’re not in it. 

Can you hear me? Where are you?

I look around. It seems like the same world, but it’s not. Far from it. 

I’m a ball of emotion. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. Confused. Sometimes it’s hard to tell one emotion from another. I feel hijacked, like I’ve been kidnapped and taken to some alternate reality. 

Surreal. That’s the word I was looking for. 

 

Things are different now

Someone we love is missing. Life is different. We’re different. The change involved can be staggering. Giving ourselves permission to grieve can be difficult. Here are 5 quick truths that can help.

 

Truth #1: Loss can thrust us into survival mode, and that’s okay.

Our hearts are broken. We’ve taken a massive hit, and our minds are in survival mode. The unbelievable has happened. The unthinkable has taken place. No wonder we’re spinning.

It’s like we’ve been hit by a bus. We might be in the Grief ICU for quite a while, and that’s okay.

 

Truth #2: Even though they’re gone, we look for them, and that’s okay.

Our souls grapple to understand this new reality of a world without someone we love. We will always deny what we are not prepared to accept, and we’re certainly not ready to accept life without them yet. Even though they’re gone, their place in our hearts remains secure. We look for them. We listen for their voice. We try to keep them close any way we can. Pictures. Videos. Texts. Voicemails. Letters. Our search is part of love in action.

We look for them. We long for them. And that’s okay.

 

Truth #3: Life can seem weird or surreal, and that’s okay.  

Each morning we expect to wake in the same world as yesterday. After a loss, this illusion is shattered. We live in a different place now, one without our loved one. Everything seems off, strange, weird. Life is surreal. And that’s okay.

 

Truth #4: Grief emotions are challenging, and that’s okay.

Navigating all these emotions and changes can seem about as doable as a solo swim of the Pacific. This is no longer the same world. Not for us. We did not ask for or want this change. Loss invaded, and then grief moved in.

Sadness, anger, confusion, frustration, anxiety, fear, and depression become persistent visitors forcefully tap dancing on our hearts. Managing their intensity and expressing them in healthy ways is an ongoing challenge. And that’s okay.

 

Truth #5: We often ask the same questions, over and over, and that’s okay.

Yes, things are surreal. No, nothing is quite as it was. Our loved ones mattered. Their departure is shaking our universe. Questions surge forth from deep within us.

How can this be? Why them? Why that way? Why now? Why us? Why?

Our minds will spin. Emotions will hijack us. Our hearts will ask repetitive questions. Our souls will search for answers. We are feeling our loved ones’ absence. And that’s okay.

 

We’re not crazy. We’re grieving.

Knowing that it’s okay to struggle, to hurt, and to grieve can make a huge difference. This is part of being kind to ourselves and patient with ourselves. We’re not crazy. Our hearts have been broken.

We hang on, breathe deeply, and grieve as best we can.

 

Affirmation:

Life is surreal. I’m trying to make sense of things. This will take time. And that’s okay.

 

Adapted from the newly released Comfort for Grieving Hearts: Hope and Encouragement for Times of Loss. You can download a free excerpt today.

3 Reasons Why Grief is So Intense

Loss smacks us like a tsunami. It leaves us stunned and shaken, wondering what hit us. Grief can be intense.

 

From the Grieving Heart:

How could this happen?

This can’t be real. You’re going to walk through that door any moment, I just know it.

The tears start to flow. They morph into sobs. I can hear myself screaming.

Yes, I feel sick. My stomach is churning. I’m lightheaded. The room is spinning.

Breathe. Yes, I must breathe. Somehow.

Is this what a broken heart feels like?

No, this can’t be real. You were just here. I swear I can hear your voice.

I’m closing my eyes. Please be there when I open them.

Please.

It hurts – badly.  

 

Grief can be intense. Here are 3 reasons why:

1.  Grief can be intense because it tears the heart.

We’re in this together. Our hearts are connected. There are people we love dearly. When a loved one departs, there is a tearing that occurs. The separation of two objects glued firmly together is messy, and neither object is ever the same.

Loss tears the heart. It can even break and shatter it.

 

2. Grief can be intense because love is strong.

Love lasts. It endures. When someone dies, our hearts love on. We look for them. We listen for their voice.

Then, reality hits. They’re gone. We cry, sob, and even scream. The sudden intensity of grief can make us feel ill. Our hearts cry, “No!”

We loved them. We love them still. Because our love is strong, our grief can be too. We grieve because we dared to love.

 

3. Grief can be intense because loss is powerful.

Loss is shocking and powerful. We’re stunned, even immobilized. Our world has been upended. Nothing is the same. We’re dazed. We move in a fog. We blink and wonder what happened and how we got here.

Loss hurts. We’re made for connection, so we don’t do separation well.

 

What can we do?

What do we do? We grieve. Grief is a natural and normal response to a loss.

We let the tears flow. We let the sobs come. We scream if necessary. Our hearts are expressing our love through grief.

We will never be the same. How could we be? A tearing apart has occurred, and it hurts.

 

Affirmation:

Because my love is deep, my grief may be intense. Tears are natural, and healthy.

 

Adapted from the newly released Caring for Grieving Hearts: Hope and Encouragement for Times of Loss. To watch a brief video about the book, click here.

 

 

5 Tips for Winning the Depression Battle

“I eat. He drinks. I talk. He doesn’t. We both go through the motions, trying to somehow be strong for our other kids. Every day is an uphill battle,” Mandy shared.

Mandy and Mike’s son Marcus had been looking forward to college for years. He was a serious student, who also loved to party. When he arrived on campus, one of the first things he did was attend rush. He became a pledge in a prestigious fraternity.

One night, the alcohol was flowing and Marcus kept drinking – much more than usual. In the middle of the night, his roommate found him on the bathroom floor. Marcus never regained consciousness. He was 19.

“The color is gone. I have no spark, no interest. I don’t want to go anywhere, see anyone, or do anything. It’s like a heavy, wet blanket is smothering all of us,” Mandy said. “I’m depressed. We’re all depressed.”

 

The loss of a loved one is depressing

Experiencing some depression in grief is natural and common. Our loved one’s absence has left a gaping hole in our hearts. It feels wrong to have joy in anything.

As Mandy said, the color goes out of life. We wonder if it will ever return, or if it even can.

Our eating and sleeping habits take a hit. We’re fatigued all the time. We walk around in a fog, sometimes forgetting where we’re going and why. We wonder incessantly about questions we’ll probably never know the answers to. We slip back or deeper into unhealthy habits or addictions.

We withdraw from the world and people. We feel alone, no matter where we are or who we’re around. We’re starved for fun, but feel terribly guilty about having any.

We slog through each day like we’re knee-deep in mud. Motivation has disappeared. Even brushing our teeth is an emotional chore. We sigh a lot.

With all of this, plus the daily, relentless assault of unpredictable emotions, it isn’t surprising that symptoms of depression can overtake us for a period of time.

“Life without you is depressing. No wonder I feel this way.”

 

Five Tips for Winning the Depression Battle

Most depression is temporary. It comes, and it goes. We experience it for periods of time, from hours to days, or perhaps a week. When this temporary depression strikes, consider doing one or more – or all – of the following:

Intentionally get out among people (a movie, restaurant, play, the mall, church, etc.). Just getting out is important.
Volunteer to serve in honor of your loved one (church, food bank, civic organization, health organization, etc.). Engaging in helping others can bring a sense of purpose and meaning that can aid your recovery and healing.
Talk to someone you trust (friend, therapist, mentor, minister, grief counselor) about how you’re feeling. Sharing what’s happening inside you with others can make a big difference.
Write it out. Journals. Letters. Whatever it takes. Try to capture how you’re doing and feeling on paper. This helps express your emotions and process your grief.
Express your grief creatively. What creative activity did you enjoy earlier in your life (drawing, painting, crafting, woodworking, etc.)? Do some of that. Creative expression aids in healing.

If the depression you’re experiencing has deepened and become your new lifestyle, you need to take action now.

If you are experiencing the following…

You don’t get out of bed.
You isolate yourself from other people and activities.
You fall deeply into an addiction or self-medicating behavior
You are non-functional when it comes to daily routine life.
You have thoughts of harming yourself.

…please call your physician, a mental health professional, or 911 immediately.

Adapted from the bestseller, Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child.

 

Question: Have you encountered depression in your grief process? What was / is that like for you? What have you found to be helpful?

5 Things Every Grieving Heart Needs

Grieving hearts need five things to survive, grieve, and live again:

We need comfort.
We need safety.
We need hope.
We need healing.
We need each other.

First of all, comfort.

Loss is painful. Separation hurts. Oblivious to our suffering, the world around us speeds on as if nothing happened. Stunned, shocked, sad, confused, and angry, we blink in disbelief. The pain can be immense.

We long for comfort. We look for it. Grieving hearts need it to survive. That’s why I wrote Comfort for Grieving Hearts: Hope and Encouragement for Times of Loss.

In my own grief, I have been comforted by the compassion and kindness of others. Over the decades as a missionary and pastor, and now as a hospice chaplain and grief counselor, I’ve had the honor of walking with thousands of grieving souls through the valley of loss, offering what comfort I can along the way. This is how comfort works. We comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received.

Let’s be honest. We don’t need another book full of lengthy chapters, heady language, and shallow pieces of advice. What we need are companions – people like us. We need other hurting, grieving hearts who understand and will walk with us. This help us feel safe and gives us hope.

I’ve created one of those traveling companions in the pages of this book. I’ve called this new friend the Grieving Heart. Each chapter begins with the Grieving Heart speaking, sharing what it is feeling, thinking, and going through. Your heart will be touched. You’ll know someone “gets it.” As one reviewer has said, “Readers will see themselves on every page.”

My goal is to meet you in your pain and walk with you there. As we journey together, our hearts will somehow begin to feel understood and safe. And as we experience a sense of safety, our hope will rise, and we will begin to heal. 

Let me be clear – I do not have all this figured out. I am a fellow struggler with you. Daily I deal with the repercussions and effects of the deep and traumatic losses I’ve experienced. I heal by putting my grief to work and serving others. This book is part of that.

We need comfort. We need safety, hope, and healing. We need companions. We need each other.

We’re in this together. Though grief can be terribly lonely, we weren’t meant to navigate the valley of loss alone. Take your heart seriously. Read on. Lean into the comfort, safety, hope, and healing in the pages ahead.

Adapted from the introduction to Comfort for Grieving Hearts (just released!)

Question: When you think of these 5 things – comfort, safety, hope, healing, and good grief companions – which one do you sense you need the most right now?

3 Keys to Remember about Grief and Emotional Pain

“Does it ever get any better? Everyone says I should be over this or further along.” Annette said.

Annette’s daughter Kimberly was the younger of two girls. She loved pink, dogs, and horses. If she had the option, she would have lived outside. She did well in school, and then worked her way through college as a veterinary tech.

On the way home from her college graduation with some friends, a truck crossed the median and slammed into them head-on. The truck driver was the only survivor. Kimberly was 23.

“I never got to say goodbye. How do I recover from that?” Annette asked.

 

Grief has no timetable

The power and depth of losses can be staggering. We get hit on every level, every day. We discover more losses as we go. Weeks become months, and months become years. We wince. We ache. Our hearts are shattered. How long is this supposed to go on?

There are 3 keys to remember about grief and the accompanying emotional pain.

First, there is no “supposed to” when it comes to the intensity and duration of our grief. Every person, every relationship, and every loss is different. Our grief process is influenced by a variety of factors:

Who we are – our personality and internal resources
Our personal history of loss – other losses we’ve experienced and how they’ve affected us
Our personal relationship with our loved one – the depth and kind of our attachment
Our loved one themselves – personality, age, station in life, etc.
The nature of the death – illness, accident, violent death, etc.
Our physical and mental health
Our faith and spiritual condition – what we believe about life, death, the afterlife
The kind and degree of other current stressors (relational, financial, vocational, physical, etc.)

Due to all these factors, there are no exact time lines for the progression of our grief. There are no infallible standards for what we “should” be experiencing and when. There are only patterns, and these vary greatly depending on the nature and depth of the factors listed above.

Second, as we grieve, our grief will change over time. No matter what our situation, as we process our grief in healthy ways, the intensity of our emotions will most likely lessen. As time goes on our loss settles in at new levels. Moments of shock and denial recede and diminish, giving way to a dull and heavy awareness of reality. As our hearts begin to adjust to this terrible loss, the grief isn’t necessarily better or easier, but different.

As we grieve, our loved ones get assimilated into our lives in new ways. We don’t move on without them or leave them behind. They become even more a part of us. We heal, but we’re not the same. We learn to live with a hole in our hearts.

Third, on some level, we will never stop grieving. We will always miss them. We will never forget. But our grief will change. Time does not heal all wounds, but healing and recovery do take time.

Our hearts refuse to be on a grief time schedule. Grief is not a task to be performed or an item to check off a to-do list. It’s a dynamic, variable, personal, and somewhat unpredictable process. We grieve because we dared to love.

“My grief has no time limit. I’ll always grieve, but it will change over time.”

 

Adapted from the 2017 USA Best Book Awards Finalist and Amazon bestseller, Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child.

Question: Have you seen your grief change over time? How so?