The Weekly Encourager – March 7, 2012 – On Grief
This week I share a timely article on grief by our good friend Jay Sappington.
Facing Grief
Grief takes many forms and lots of time. Sometimes it distracts from the tasks at hand; other times, you wonder why it doesn’t seem to be affecting you, and then it tackles you from behind. It will probably last longer than you expect.
Grief tends to come in waves. The waves often become smaller and less frequent, and, finally, seem to have ended. But, as with the ocean tides, grief can come back in. Something—it might be a word, a smell, a stranger’s face—suddenly reminds you of the person you lost, or some aspect of your relationship or history, and a world of previously unknown feelings swells.
Patterns of Grief
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s classic book, On Death and Dying, proposes five “stages of grief” (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). This model is highly, but not always strictly, applicable to many kinds of grief. I found C. S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed to be a better yardstick—more of a mirror, actually. When I read it before my father died, I thought its account of the emotions in grief was extreme. After he died, I knew it was no exaggeration.
Yet, everyone’s experience of grief is different. In fact, a single individual’s experiences of grief can vary greatly. I responded very differently to my mother’s death, for example, than I did to my father’s or my brother’s.
Supporting the Bereaved
Most of us don’t know how to support others who are grieving, so we tend to offer platitudes, offer what has helped us, or ignore the issue altogether, none of which is particularly helpful.
She lived a full life. . . . He’s in a better place. . . . She’s no longer suffering. All of these well-intentioned comments, true as they may be, are about the person we lost. But grief is actually not so much about them as it is about us. It’s not a matter of acknowledging what the deceased experienced, escaped, or gained as it is constellation of sadnesses about our loss that needs acknowledgment and consolation.
Offering a grieving person the thing that consoles us is more thoughtful, but doesn’t take into account our differences in psychological make-up. For example, when my brother died, his widow wanted time alone. A neighbor who had lost her husband kindly but counter-productively visited her every day “because when my husband died, I needed someone with me all the time.”
The hardest mistake to avoid is ignoring grief. When should you ask about it? When should you stay quiet? What allowances should you make for the grieving person? This gets harder as time goes on. We tend to forget about others’ grief long before it has passed.
Being the Bereaved
Not even your closest, most empathetic friend always knows what you need or when you need it. So, if you want extra company, extra hugs, extra silence, extra space, or something else altogether, ask for it. This is good for your friends and for you—they don’t have to wonder how to be supportive, and you won’t be as tempted to feel abandoned because no one noticed your need.
Living with Grief
While recognizing the value of Kübler-Ross’s insights, there is really no template for grief. Take whatever you experience to the Lord, lean on Him, your family, and friends, and continue to give thanks for all good things amid the difficult circumstances.
© Jay Sappington, rev. 02-01-2012