Let's Talk About Grief - T.A. Nieman

When you think of grief, what is it that you focus on?

Is it the loss of control - by which I mean that you cannot predict when you will lose someone and you feel powerless.

Is it the overwhelming sadness that comes when you can't see someone again?

Do you picture a funeral, an empty grave or an urn?

Whatever the word makes you see, just remember that it is your truth. In life, we are often told how we should behave.

Don't talk back to elders.

Say please and thank you.

Treat others with respect.

Eat your dinner before dessert.

While all of those may be sage advice, just remember that no one can tell you how to grieve. It is simply not their place to tell you what your heart needs to get through this.

Through the last year of isolation, loss and fear, grief is probably one of the most common emotional journeys that we as a society have taken. It comes in many forms: grief over loss of life, loss of freedom, loss of control. And the way that we choose to deal with it is our own burden to bear.

On February 24, I dealt with a major anniversary. It had been 10 years since my father's death. A man that I looked up to my entire life, who loved without question and made me feel safe like no other. There are many ways that I can cope with this: cry all day missing him, tear up blank paper in a fit of rage, scream at those around me who may not have remembered an important date in my life...or focus on the positive memories.

I chose the latter.

Not that the other choices are wrong, they just weren't what I needed. I needed to remember the things that he had said, the comfort he showed me, the man that I believed he was.

Greif is also about forgetting the negative - or, it can be. My father wasn't perfect; I'm smart enough to figure that out. But in death, it doesn't always matter. He was perfect for me; my father who loved me, and that's all I needed. Any failings he had were gone when he passed away, leaving me with the focused memories of what he did that was great.

My choice is to focus on the good times, the memories that I hold that only I can remember and not let the day get me down. When asked, on that day, why I was working my answer was simple: "I need to focus on other things. Distract myself from the negative that's threatening my sanity."

It's a simple thing to say and put into words, but it is also true.

I want to remember the time when he told me it was raining cats and dogs, and I was too young to realize he was joking. I ran to the window and looked out, expecting to see a herd of animals on my front lawn. When I saw nothing, I turned expectedly to my father and he chuckled, telling me that they must have all ran away before I got to the window.

I want to remember the time when I was pregnant with my first child and nervous about being a mother and he gave me the best advice I'd ever heard. He told me that children were born with both feet in their mouths, and that as a parent it was my job to teach them how to remove them before becoming adults.

I want to remember when he told me it was important to treat others with respect.

I want to remember when he told me to not talk back to my elders.

I want to remember he told me to focus on dessert, and eat dinner later.

And most of all, I want to remember that he told me to love others.

Grief may overwhelm you, but that's ok. Grief is an extension of our love of another who is lost to us. Regardless of your belief system, they are lost to us currently and that is what creates the grief in our minds. The more you love, the more you grieve when it's gone.

Don't let others tell you what's in your own heart. Remember how you wish, feel what you need, and remember to not stop your own life while your emotions threaten to take over.

Loving means an end at some point. Enjoy the journey and the ride. It's all we have.