As you grieve

I could pretend to start this piece from a place of authority. I could tell you that I've had to academically study the stages of grief. If you want my take on the cycle, you can check out this piece I wrote for Calming Wind Counseling Services.

I could even explain how I've helped and supported family members when their loved ones were on comfort care.

But all of that is superficial. You don't need to know my professional background. What you need to know is that I've been there.

Grief reaches beyond words. It is felt in the depths of the soul. It doesn't always make sense.

I remember feeling numb. I remember being devoid of emotion. And I remember wanting to feel.

My grandmother died in 2018 after battling pancreatic cancer for two years. She was someone who embraced life. Someone who lived without regret. She knew how to laugh.

She was also someone who faced death courageously.

I had been expecting the call from my parents. We had known it was coming. I was at college when I heard the news. After several emails and a meeting to reschedule a lab final, I was on my way to the funeral.

I think I had come to terms with my grandma's death a long time ago. Maybe that's why my eyes were dry.

Everyone expects you to be sad at a funeral. You can cry, and no one will judge you for it. Some people even expect you to cry.

But I wasn't crying. I even got through reciting a eulogy without drumming up more than a few tears. My voice barely shook. And I felt like a bad person. My grandmother was dead. I was supposed to be sad.

Outside looking in, we think we know what grieving people should look like. We expect them to act a certain way, even when we don't consciously acknowledge these expectations.

In my case, I expected myself to act a certain way. And I was angry at myself, because I wasn't living up to those expectations.

Ditching the expectations

Whether imposed on us by others or by ourselves, there are always expectations when it comes to grief.

But those expectations are not going to help you through your loss, and they are not going to help you help someone else.

There are many around me who are grieving right now. I have a friend whose grandfather just died. I have another friend who is grieving the loss of one of her students. And in the online Vocal community, we are collectively mourning the loss of Tom Bradbury.

I'd like to say that there's a first step to grief. I wish Kubler Ross' stages actually went in a progressive and straight line. But everyone is going to experience loss differently.

So, don't tell yourself "I should" when it comes to how you feel after you lose someone. I should be sad. I should be angry. I should be crying.

Don't do that. It's only going to make you more stressed out when you fail to act or feel in alignment with those "I should" statements.

For this moment

I think back to my grandmother's funeral as I seek to help those who are hurting.

There are some things regarding religious content that are not currently shareable on Vocal. (Here's to hoping they add that religious community. It's what the people want.)

But I can tell you there is such a thing as grace, a way to be forgiven, and a way to know peace when it comes to death. Ask me about it. I would love to tell you.

But aside from that, there is one piece of advice that has stayed with me since my grandmother's funeral.

Because I was angry at myself for not being sad. For not crying. And then my mom told me this:

You don't have to feel anything right now.

Yes, I had experienced loss, but that didn't mean I had to be bawling at the funeral. She told me that I would experience loss in my own way and in my own time. At some point, I would cry. I would feel sad. Maybe it would be at Christmas, when Grandma wouldn't be there. Maybe it would be as we were cleaning out the house. Or maybe it would be when I experienced a triumph that I would have wanted to tell my grandma about.

Even though everyone was wearing black and remembering my grandma did not mean it had to be right now.

Whoever you are out there, whatever loss you are going through, can I just tell you?

You can feel sad right now. That's okay.

You can feel angry right now. That's okay.

You can feel an entire conglomeration of emotions right now and have no idea what you actually feel. That's okay.

You also don't have to feel anything right now. That's okay.

Grieve. In your own way. In your own time.

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