Thoughts on Grief and Loss

“What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never even been to a dentist?”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

“Talk to me about the truth of religion and I'll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I'll listen submissively. But don't come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don't understand.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed


I love C.S. Lewis. For many, many reasons. This past month its been because of his wonderful understanding of a not so wonderful thing - grief. I think when it comes to sadness, people just don't know what to say. So they say silly things. I understand how it feels to be unloaded upon and to feel like you have to say something. (!anything! your mind screams). However I have learned from experience listening is almost always enough. Words of sympathy more than often come across as hollow...vacuous. I think the worst of it is when you are so absolutely downtrodden and people say things like "God is good", "trust in Him", "He has a lesson for you in this time" etc etc. Not that anything of those things AREN'T true. But there is a time and a place. And at the wrong time you come off as not understanding (see quote #2). C.S. Lewis understood. And I am trying to understand.

I most acutely discovered the convolution of grief when I was married and moved to Minnesota. I learned that grief is not a state of being but this confusing and heartwrenching process that twisted and turned, impossible to pinpoint or map out. We were married in New Zealand and then went away on our honeymoon, in New Zealand. I was suddenly very aware that I was going to be moving to Minnesota, hundreds of miles away from family and friends. So I grieved that. Then I was moving away from my family in New Zealand for a long time. I grieved that. I strangely grieved independence and changing my name. It seems strange now but I battled so many hard emotions on my honeymoon. It felt so weird to be in New Zealand near my family and friends, but away from them with the man that I would be living with for years as just the two of us. My poor husband, I actually cried for two days. It was this weird paradox of sweet honeymoon experiences and an awareness of the sadness to come. I just couldn't process it all, so we went home early to spend time with my family. I needed that, and my husband knew that and was awesome about it. I know we would do it again in a heartbeat too.
Actually being in Minnesota was so, so hard as well. When I reflect on our first six months there, I realize that I was clinically depressed and probably should have gotten some more help. But hindsight is 20/20 :)
I'll never forget the different responses I got when I poured my heart out to people, and what it taught me about listening, empathy and sadness. I was told, "you just need to try harder" and "well, it could always be worse. you could be living in Alaska where the sun never rises". gee, thanks for that. then there was the "go out and do more activities. try to see the best in work and the winter" and "God doesn't test us beyond what we can handle, there is a reason for this season". I just remember feeling so, so alone and that nobody understood. Finally my best friend said to me, "I can see that this place and time is making you lose your soul. I will be here on skype for you every day. Know that you can always come home if you want to."

sigh. this made me feel so much better. I was heard and somebody was committed to being my friend despite my dark cloud.
And my dark cloud got better. I settled in to life. I found a good job and two good friends. But somebody communicated to me that no matter what, they were there for me - no matter how I felt or what I said.

Those feelings come back at times. At airports when I am saying goodbye. at weddings when the bride and groom leave. On the telephone with sisters who are grieving on their honeymoon. when I think about moving to a brand new place. I become afraid of going back to that time, to those feelings. and then I realize its just part of my process.

'No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not
afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same
fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the
yawning. I keep on swallowing.' C.S. Lewis



When I take time to be quiescent, I think back to my grief and the person it shaped me into. Now I absolutely have never experienced the loss of a child, spouse or had something horrendous to me so I know my grief is different. I am just saying that we all need to take the time to learn to be better listeners when people in our lives are going through a hard time. To allow them to process, and commit to walking through the mud with them. to allow them to feel whatever they are feeling, instead of making them feel guilty, crazy, weak, pathetic. Don't be Job's friends everyone!

Thats my essay for the week :)

Ka Kite Ano