On Grief Anniversaries
1.12.2020
Today marks the 6th anniversary of my mom’s death… and it is reminding me of All. The. Things. All the things I know in my head as someone who has worked in the field of grief and loss for many years but are totally different when you know them with your heart.
Things like…
Grief has no timeline. Some years have been harder than others, different parts hurt more at different times. I couldn’t have predicted that approaching six years I would be trying not to cry while grocery shopping.
There will be grief waves- unbidden waves of emotion that come, often triggered by an unexpected smell, sound, song, sight, sensation. SUPER awesome when you’re in target, by the way.
Secondary losses are part of grief. Over the years there have been many big and small changes that have somehow created a much bigger cumulative loss. Relationships have shifted and changed, there are less people around who knew her stories, places change, people change. She feels father away.
Grief evolves. The things I grieved initially are not necessarily the things that make my heart ache (physically ache) today. And, by the way, grief evolves US, too. I think about how the rushing water carved the Grand Canyon. It softened some edges and made others sharper, it created depth.
Anger is part of grief. It. Is. Not. Fair. and, just because someone dies doesn’t mean it wasn’t complicated- there’s the hard stuff to sort through, too.
And my own personal addition, not found in any book I’ve read so far, parenting while grieving is bullsh*t. Sorry for the swear. I could say bologna, but it just doesn’t cut it. Your kids aren’t going to take it easy on you on a grief anniversary or on a rough day because, well, they’re kids and they are busy doing their own growing.
All of that to say… it doesn’t matter the year. Make room for the mess. Let the feelings come, if you can. Be alone if you need to (and can make it happen, see last point above), ask someone to come over or do something if what you need is to not be alone. Stay in bed or take a walk. Ask yourself, “what do I need?” If it feels helpful, do a ritual that connects you- buy their favorite flower, watch their favorite movie, light a candle, share a memory, volunteer. Reach out to a therapist. Make room.
From one griever to another, thinking of you and making room for you if you are struggling, too.
-Kelly