Grief

Grief. Its this crazy all encompassing thing that no one can really define for anyone else and it doesn't always look the same depending on the situation or the person experiencing it.

I like things to be straight forward. Black and White.  Right and wrong.  Grief isn't like this.  It affects each of us differently and each of us react differently as we all have different personalities.

With Dori's passing and the grief of those around me as well as mine, people have been talking a lot about grief, loss, and pain.  But we have not really talked about our grief. We have not personalized it.  Well maybe they have and maybe I have missed it.  I don't feel like I have shared much or at all what I want.  Its interesting how lonely grief can feel even when you are surrounded by people who are also grieving.  We all grieve differently and I think we know that too.  This knowledge silences grief. The struggle to be vulnerable seems to be even harder as your grieve due to the fear of letting others into the raw emotions and feelings that come with grief as they are different than others.

I keep having this urge to share and to talk about it.  To share how I am and to let people into the closed door of my home.  To show them that the Megan they see Mon-Friday 8-5pm when you can find me sitting at my desk doing my job and "getting on with life" is giving all she has to make it through the work week.   The Megan on Sunday that you see fighting back tears while she worships the giver of life, just wants to bawl and sit in it and not be worried about others thinking she is not okay. Because, crying is okay. And sometimes I just need to cry.

I should also note that however much I want to talk and share there are only a few that when they ask how I am, do I really want to tell them.  Others ask how I am doing, and they may sincerely want to know how I am, but I am so disconnected from them that there is not a trust built that allows for vulnerability to happen.  And more than likely it is not the time or place for the tears to come.

The irony is that I have wanted to be intentional about making time for our small group that had walked with Dori and loved her throughout the joys and sorrows of the last couple years to really talk and process together. Yet, I have felt myself tense up and not share what is really on my mind and heart.  To share the moments of pain that no ones sees.  To cry with them.  But you see to do so might be uncomfortable. It might not be the best timing.  And really others may not want to talk and share as they deal with their grief differently. And thus silence fills the room.

And so, what I so desperately wish people saw and knew is that the real Megan can be found lacking motivation to do anything more than she absolutely has to do.  The real Megan found herself sitting on the kitchen floor in tears throwing things out of the fridge onto the floor as she puts away groceries the evening that Dori passed.  The same Megan sat the next Saturday in tears on her bedroom floor. And still the next week, after a small group breakfast and errands, you can see the real Megan bawling as she does the dishes alone at home (just one part of being a seminary student spouse).  The real Megan has not slept well since Dori went on hospice because her mind processes so much while she sleeps and dreams that she never turns off enough to really rest. 

Its not hopelessness or depression, its just grief.  And grief takes time.  And for this doer sitting in the grief and patiently waiting on the Lord to lead me through it, is not what I want to do.  We are all our worst critics. But just as we are extending grace to those around us as they grieve, we must also extend grace to ourselves as we grieve.  And its okay if it takes you or them longer than the other to grieve.

Just remember that God is still here and he is still in charge amidst the grief.