How Pursuing In-Person Connections Eased My Grief – A Man’s Journey Through Grief continued, #26
Nine months have gone by since God called Mary Helen home. I still have periods of intense longing for her presence. But as I look back over these months, I’m beginning to realize that leaving my lonely condo and seeking out the presence of other people has made an enormous difference. She would be pleased.
My family saw the danger in letting me retreat into solitary grief. They urged me to visit them as well as make new friends. Their every hug, every touch was a lifeline.
Fortunately, I already had a weekly habit of attending a men’s Bible study. At first it was difficult to attend, fearing I might break down in tears at any moment. But the men in the study have been tremendously patient and supportive. A couple of them took me under their wings, offering to go out for coffee and driving me to appointments.
One of the newer additions to the group invited me for supper. It was a surprise. Could I accept? It turned out to be an encouraging meal where I could get to know him. And return the favour later.
Very early, I realized that I also needed connection with a group of people who were going through the same trauma. I searched until I found a meeting of Griefshare in a neighbouring church. It became a weekly lifeline, a place where I was allowed to share my grief honestly, without making others uncomfortable by my tears. It was a place that helped us be aware of common pitfalls so we didn’t become stuck in grief. [To connect with a Griefshare group near you see: www.griefshare.org.]
I forced myself to go to church services, even though almost every Sunday I felt like fleeing rather than participate in another activity that we had always done together.
Having something to do has also been a life saver. I’m a writer who is on the computer every day. I always have several projects on the go. They have given me a sense of purpose; something to do every morning besides wash dishes, tidy the condo, and wallow in self-pity. However, there was a danger. I was often tempted to retreat into a life centred around the online world. I could have spent my time on Facebook, Twitter, working on my blog, and connecting with other online communities. Fortunately, God in His grace, continued to remind me that there is no substitute for live, face-to-face interaction with real flesh and blood humans. “Every day they [the believers] continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts” (Acts 2:46). Unfortunately, Covid has led many Christians to forget this reality.
In a major article in the Globe and Mail [Nov. 19th, pp 1,6,7, Opinion section], entitled, “Losing Contact – Digital: Humans need more than what the virtual world can offer,” David Sax discusses the detrimental effects of retreating into the digital world and the positive effects of real connections.
“Digital communication is not the same as having a conversation. It is fundamentally different act than what happens when two or more human beings make sounds with the mouths, connect eyes and move their bodies to express ideas in a shared space in real time.” We are in a setting with background noise…the coffee we are drinking plus all that body language make for memories.
“While our world is turning increasingly inward into digital connections, we need to ‘actively teach people how to reconnect as humans and why that actually matters…A conversation a day keeps the doctor away!’
“Our biology is triggered by in-person interactions…They are an essential requirement for living, and our very survival depends on them. ‘Humans have social needs’. …If strapping pixels to our eyes is our destiny, then humanity is doomed…One of the most pervasive health crises growing across the world is an epidemic of loneliness and isolation. Studies have demonstrated a clear link between how socially isolated individuals are, and their life expectancy…if genuine social needs are not met we will actually perish.’”
I love to use the self-checkout line in the store, it seems so efficient. But after thinking through the importance of contact with a real person I switched to a line with a real cashier. Maybe I can chat a minute or two. I need people to help me heal and remake my life without Mary Helen.
If you’ve read to this point you may think I have it all together. That would be very far from the truth. Almost every morning my grief breaks out anew. And today has been a day I don’t understand. I’ve felt like an emotional wreck all day. I guess that just shows the unpredictable, seemingly irrational nature of loss. And Christmas is approaching.
