How do you grieve? (7/26/09)

I rage. I sob. I write poems of the Wounded God. I used to be quiet. I will never be silent again.

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Sad songs and a box of kleenex

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I stuff down the emotion of sadness and then let it come out in anger/control somewhere else that is usually sort of inappropriate for that situation. I got my dad's death stuffed down there so far, its coming out all over the place, but usually when I drive or deal with big institutions.

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I cry a lot. I write letters that will never be sent. I write poetry. I think too much about what I could have done differently, but that usually doesn't get me any where. I talk, sometimes to the right people, sometimes to the wrong people. I blunder my way through the pain until I wake up one day and its not the first thing I think about. Having been through the process many times now, I recognize the odd fact that this too will fade into the past as the rest of life ambles along relentlessly, requiring more and more of my attention. The grief eventually gets less and less attention. Then it is residual in the form of a photograph or a song or a faint, lingering, familiar and pleasant odor left on a garment or the memory of a purchase together or the color of a gift that was given. And then the grief is gone and these things are just things and, in a way - gratefully, nothing more. Memories fade and life swells, requiring that you move on. Well, its never easy or quick, but pretty much follows that path for me.

If I may say: It is somehow very precious to grieve, to have your heart be so incredibly broken. The thoughts and feelings during grief eventually become bare-bones honest and some of the most meaningful you might ever experience. Embrace it and learn from it. Don't worry, the numbing facts of reality will slip back into your life quick enough, so don't rush the process.

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my best friend from childhood and teens' Dad just passed away.... I did my run to the beach as usual , but this time took a break and cried. Straightforward and age-old way to grieve.

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by talking to my close friends. by sleeping. a lot. by crying. a lot. it helps to accept it and then let it all out. it makes it easier to let go

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slowly........painfully.......with help from loved ones......

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Internally--unfortunately for me. I often wish I weren't so afraid of crying and otherwise letting my grief express itself outwardly.

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Depends on what the loss is. As an empty-nester mom, I grieve the loss of a close bond with my sons through awareness and acceptance. I am sad sometimes. I even allow a glint of bitterness here and there, and then I move ahead in my own life. The death of my dog, I cried almost unconsolably, off and on, for 3 days. And then allowed myself to miss her. Three years later, I just now got a puppy and wonder often WTF was I thinking. So, I try to feel emotions appropriate to the loss and avoid "replacements" until a suitable time has passed. I replaced my sons with dating and ended up with a new husband. Some losses are much more cut and dried. Parents are dead. Dog is dead. Not much you can do about that. I think part of daily living is to touch upon the grief of changes that engender loss.

I am strengthened by the Native American approach of acknowledging the connectedness of all things and the beauty and reality of ever present cycles (nature, seasons, birth/death, sunrise/sunset, inhale/exhale, plant/harvest, conception/birth.) I try to not avoid grieving over much things which have had their full "season" and have more sadness for those thing that are interrupted. Then I accept that that, too, is part of the cycle. I do not feed myself the soft comfort foods of denial and magical thinking.

We were driving past a large and impressive cemetery a few weeks ago. My 4 yr. old grandson piped up from the back seat, "Gramma, is that heaven?"

"No, Hunter. That place is called a cemetery." And I offer a brief explanation of the purpose they serve.

"But it has to be heaven, Gramma, because that where you go when you die. And when you die, you go to heaven."

I got the chance to explain to him that heaven is just what some people believe. There are other people, like me, who believe that when you die your life energy is just freed into the world. Since everything dies eventually, the energy just keeps moving. Death is naturual and how it is supposed to be. He was 100% calm and cool about that. He didn't freak out to learn that dying HAPPENS. I didn't need to feed him another Santa Clause scheme to protect him from reality. We talked about being sad for awhile when I die and when poppy dies and his dog dies. And, it was like...ok. Can we go to the beach.

My mottos: No boxes for me. Death is not a failure. Go with the flow. No false platitudes. Acceptance.

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Very physically. My lupus flares up, I have seizures. When my oldest friend killed himself a few years ago I was in bed for months and in horrible pain. I was slapped and screamed at every time I cried as a child, so I have come to hide all outward manifestations of grief, and instead they literally become physical. It's something I've never been able to work through.

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In my own way and time, just like everyone else.

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The biggest loss in my life in terms of death was my Aunt Kattie, my godmother, who died 18 years ago. She was a glamour gal who came of age in the ‘40s, and was such a character. Not once in her life did she sit in the sun or wear pants. And wherever she went, she always wore her Jackie O sunglasses (that she got in Rite-Aid).

I suppose I’ve never stopped grieving for her. When we cleared out her house, I took a lot of her over-the-top decorations, like a frilly mirror and this pixie sculpture that protrudes from the wall. You’d really have to see it to believe it.

How I miss her.

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Depends on who it is for. This last week brought out a lot of old connections and a get-together for me with other grieving former students of our beloved teacher, Frank McCourt. We sang the songs and told the stories he taught us, and we told stories of our own.

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Interesting you ask. We are nearing the anniversary of the death of a friend who had died quite unexpectantly last year. How did I grieve. I was pretty much usless and in shock, then extremely horny for some reason! I guess its the body's way of dulling the pain. I slept at odd hours, cried, got mad, and surrounded myself only with close friends. It was weird though, some people I didn't want to see at all, some people I couldn't see enough of, most of the time I didn't want to pick up the phone. I think once we loose someone very close, without warrant or reason, a part of us never stops grieving.

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The old classics: crying, writing, eulogizing, and blessing whatever I
learned from the loss, whether it's a death, a breakup, leaving a job,
leaving a home, etc. And I have experienced all of these recently, so
I can say with some assurance that the old classics still work.

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Isolate, spend, eat, sleep, and occasionally share my experiences.

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I've been masturbating a lot. But I think that has more to do with what I'm grieving.

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With tears and gentleness.
I also use my healing modality to open me to the grief when I can't get to it alone.

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Privately

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being kind to myself by nurturing and caring for my body and getting plenty of sleep. taking luxurious alone time. crying as much as i need to. doing buddhist practices, continuing to move forward and never shutting down.

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Behind closed doors when I can.

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By escaping. When my dad died, my brothers and I were devastated. On the day of his funeral, we went go-karting afterward (which my father would have loved, had he known about it). When I had a miscarriage, my husband and I decided to leave town for a few days, not tell anyone, and spend the time at Disneyland. I don't know that any of this eased the pain I was experiencing, but it did allow me to spend those difficult times with loved ones who were also grieving for the same loss, in a non-destructive way.

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With tears, acceptance, honesty and positivity. I do not isolate. It is so important to not let any outcome or event or difference effect or take away one's ability to love and be open to life. In the movie, "under the Tuscan sun" a character describes it as: "never lose your childhood innocence." and what I think she means by that, is: grieve yes. Grieve with the experiences of our lives and yet, do not let those experiences so harden us that we are defined by our grieving and not available to happiness and life.

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Avoidance. Then for realz I cry, scream (esp if in a car alone on the freeway for example), get angry, journal, watching movies, crying some more, prayer. I ought to add meditation to that formula, too...

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I grieve loud and long and wet. Then I go to the AIDS Memorial Grove and sit in the curved circle and read the names of all the people who were loved and who died and who are remembered. Then I walk through the park and weep some more. Sooner or later I wind up at the beach in Half Moon Bay and begin making my peace with God. Eventually I do formalized sitting and grief work at the Zen Hospice Project on Paige at Laguna. For my father, I planted a tree. I love to go there and spend time with him.

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I try to do it quickly and to myself, as to help others grieve.

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silence
pawing at distractions
wandering
delaying the feeling like searching
for
misplaced glasses

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Deeply and long. I often wear my grief for the world to see; my emotions are usually evident to anyone with working eyes.

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Not very well, in my own estimation. But if I've learned anything at all about grieving, it's this:

Leave space for feelings to come up and don't be disappointed, or judge yoursef, if they fail to appear on schedule. The process will unfold in accordance with a logic that might not seem to make sense. Trying to push it or hold it back simply won't work.

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The classic psychology of Kubler-Ross describes the 5 stages of grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance
(See; "All That Jazz", or The Simpson's episode "One Fish, Two Fish, Blow-Fish, Blue Fish")
It seems that I personally tend to follow:
Denial, Anger, Depression, Denial
(I guess I should work on that)

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i watch people watch me grieve and wait for my experience of the 'grievance' to meet their apparent demand. on an internet that can also, with some payment, give yopu a child getting his head cut off. (probably too strong to the www)
oh, also on the www.grivethatheadofhis.com

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I sob upon hearing certain songs -- some country weepers, a few by Otis Redding, several Brian Wilson aching falsetto numbers. They open the flood gates of the lost childhood, the ex-girlfriend who won't/can't love me anymore, the terrible sadness of this wicked orb. In a way 20 years of therapy never quite could.

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And mine...

Fully.