What No One Tells You About Grief

Most of us have lost a close family member or friend. That person who helps you through the day without even realizing it. That person whom you’ve known for so long that you can’t remember a time without them. The problem is, life can kinda suck sometimes, and with that, it can suck the happiness out of your day-to-day without you realizing what’s happened.

Death is sudden. Sure, the dying process may take weeks or months, depending on the prognosis and health of the dying person. They could be old and frail with organ failure wreaking havoc on their already–limited time (even though old age doesn’t kill, but I’ll get to that later). They could have a terminal illness and look great in white and the snow in January, only to look good in black in March as an “up you” to the blossoms that come with spring. They could also be chronically ill, which isn’t a Death sentence like a terminal illness, but they, too, are waiting for their time.

Then you get the actual dying process when the person is in active Death and their body starts shutting down but because we humans are stubborn as kcuf, our bodies refuse to dwindle into Death’s doorway without a fight. Our need for survival trumps these modern miracles of machines and specialists: Even at the end, our bodies fight for one more breath. One more opportunity to speak, to curse, to love.

When it comes, it comes. I think of it like a light switch: There is only off and on. No in-between, no thought or understanding of what the other is like. When the switch is on, it’s on. When the switch is off, it’s off. It’s only those around us that feel the difference, those who think of what it may be like to be on, off, alive, or dead. And then it’s all gone. The person you loved and (hopefully) loved you back is just. Gone. We don’t get another hug, another cup of coffee or tea, another opportunity to tell our person how much they meant to us. Damnit, how much they mean to us.

The above line is part of the reason I wanted to write this piece. What no one tells you about grief (or they didn’t tell me, at least) is that the person doesn’t just slip away from your life after they have died. Apart from the funeral, wake, or whatever Death ritual our families use, our loved ones stay with us until we accept Death ourselves. When I was a child, and before any of my family members died, I just assumed that after the funeral/wake, etc., that person might be mentioned in family chatter and an old story, but that was it.

No one told me what our loved ones are mentioned in the family chatter because they have to get out of a person’s head somehow. Our loved ones live rent-free in our skulls, and sometimes, speaking (or writing) about them is the only way to soften the screams of “Why did you leave?” and “When can I join you?” No one told me that I’d dream about those I’ve lost more now than when they were alive (or switched on). No one told me that I might dream of all of those I’ve lost in the same dream. No one told me that I’d get angry with my alarm and/or husband for waking me from that dream and trying to fall back to get back to the dream, almost to the point of an obsession.

I understand grief as a part of life because it’s accepted that sick and old people die, but what happens when young and healthy (apart from the Death thing) die? No one told me that I might have to grieve someone that I thought I’d have years to prepare for. What no one tells you about grief is that you might be the one people grieve, alive or dead, and that isn’t something most people are willing to accept. With all of this, I completely understand that people die. It’s the cycle of life. Everything and everyone will die, including the universe. The rest of us are just way too early, and no one tells us how to cope with the holes in our hearts and photo albums.