The Art of Grieving.

Grief is personal. We all grieve in different fashions. What no one can know is what your grief style is. When Jim died, I wanted to spend time with people; I did not want to be alone in my house. For several weeks, I stayed busy with friends and family members. I consumed bottle after bottle of wine with my neighbors to avoid the quiet of my house and then as quickly as that had onset, it changed. I moved to our farm for several weeks where I locked myself away from the world. I labored every day to clean up old outbuildings. I needed to sweat out the grief. The physical labor of the days allowed me to pass out at night and sleep through those periods of grief.

I undertook bereavement counseling to deal with my anger of loosing Jim. I was angry. I was angry that he was gone. I had a short fuse with many of the issues I had to contend with in the aftermath of his death. In fact I was pissed off that I’d had such a short time with Jim. I am thankful for every day, but at times I still feel cheated and angry.

I had no grieving timeline. I let me grief wash over me and I floated in the ebb and flow like a piece of flotsam on the seas. I knew that life would push me along and that I would pass through the phases of my grief. I gave myself no timeline. There were times I embraced the pain of his loss and at other times I got angry and found that undertaking extreme physical chores was the placebo I needed. It was what it was. I could not change what had happened. It was meant to happen and I was meant to experience his loss.

In the early months following Jim’s death, friends would call to check in with me. They wanted to comfort me, and as I have written before, I often thought they wanted me to comfort them.

So, this week I was confronted with a situation that made me wonder about grief all over again. A friend on Face Book suffered a tremendous loss on Saturday. A mutual friend wanted to have a discussion in a private group on Face Book about the tragedy. She wanted to discuss it. I think she wanted to discuss it because she wanted comfort, and in doing so may not have realized the pain that would be cast on the grieving family. The discussion was closed out and moved into a private forum so that there could be no prying eyes, off hand comments, or any chance the grieving family would see the discussion.

Perhaps I’m overly sensitive, but with the electronic age everything is “out there.” Grieving should be left with the impacted family. Let them decide when they want to introduce their feelings in the social media. I have a friend whose husband died recently and before his body had been removed from the house she was updating her FB status about the tragedy. Grief drives us to unfortunate circumstances. She posted for several days and I could feel the pain of her words…and as suddenly as she was posting about her loss, all of her posts have dried up. There are none of her comical postings of grumpy cats or goofy dogs. Her path of grief has changed. She will be back one day when she has dealt with her pain and I welcome her back. Have I poked her on FB to see what’s up? Nope. She needs her time to deal with her feelings. If she wants to reach out to me or anyone, she will. It should be her timing by her choice.

Which circles back to the Saturday discussion. Some thought was given to taking a meal to the family. Though maybe meant in a cynical tone, the comment leant itself to “food won’t replace a lost family member.” I pointed out that the meal would sustain a mother in her time of grief, because preparing food may be the last thing on her mind. Lord knows as much as I like to cook, I avoided the kitchen for months after Jim died. Neighbors helped to sustain my physical need of food. I would just have soon not eaten.

Another friend in the conversation talked about losing her husband and a gentleman that would stop by and just sit with her on the porch never uttering a word. They were comfortable in the silence, and yes, as much as I gab, I had those moments as well. Grief has no defined pattern. It comes and goes; it can be loud or serene, it can be the wailing and gnashing of teeth. It can be anger at the world or quiet reflection. You do not get to pick the grief you want, it just sort of happens (my observation, not a scientific definition).

So, this morning I reached out to my friend’s fiancé and explained that my silence on the subject was intentional. I don’t have the words to express my sorrow. I can offer a cyber hug and let him know that my ear is available if and when needed. If not, I understand.

I don’t have any words that will comfort this dear woman. I am not so close as to need to force myself into the terrible tragedy. Lord knows her days ahead are difficult enough to deal with without me trying to be helpful or just repeating meaningless platitudes.

Some friends will read this post and hate me for writing these words. Some will applaud, others won’t understand because they have not had to deal with any loss of loved ones. Those who have might be nodding their heads in quite understanding.

So dear friends, I do post on FB asking for prayers in a situation. I won’t tag a family and I will respect their privacy as they wend their way through the uncharted paths of a tragic loss of an individual’s life. Young, old, sick or healthy, death does not discriminate. Grief is grief. Grief is a journey that offers moments of great reflection and hopefully some peace in the future. Time dulls the pain, but does not eliminate it.

My prayer is that we all take a moment, step back and allow friends to grieve as is their right and let those friends set the parameters. If you feel you need comforting about the loss of someone outside of your family, call me, you can have a conversation with the Widow Fike.