Grief is different for everyone. That’s what I’ve learned in the last few months after my dad’s death. I already knew it, but now, I have seen it up close. Everyone has the right to feel and experience grief the way they need to. I respect that, or I try to.
For me, the key words have been faith, acceptance and gratitude. Sadness hits me harder some days but my view of death, taught to me by my parents, has helped me to believe that this is not the end. I won’t see Dad anymore in this reality, but I know that, somehow, we are still connected.
I have had to deal with people with many doubts, with different beliefs and fear. We have no idea what the truth is. If no human knows for sure what happens after death, why think only of the most discouraging and horrifying scenarios? For that reason, I ignore the comments that want to drag me down into a hole of uncertainty and pain.
“What if we go to a place where punishment exists? What if it’s a worse place than here?” they ask me. I’m sorry, but I’ve blocked my mind to those possibilities, or maybe, I’ve opened my mind to the better options, to a more positive look at life and death.
What if I’m wrong? Well, I will have all eternity to say I was wrong. Or I will simply disappear and know nothing more about it. I don’t plan to spend energy worrying about it right now, because it doesn’t make sense to me. What if the other place is better?
I don’t want to waste my life with fears about things I can’t control. I want to have a better view of life and death (transcend or transform), a broader, unlabeled, non-deterministic and full of (positive) possibilities.
Meanwhile, in this reality, I had to find the strength to take care of unfinished matters and I tried to help others. Then, I realized that when you become someone else’s support, they don’t want to let you go. At that moment came the exhaustion. I understood the hard way: I can’t take care of anyone, especially when I need to feel better myself.
I didn’t understand that sometimes I have to set boundaries. Just because I try to respect the process, space and beliefs of others, doesn’t mean it’s reciprocal. After spending a couple of months physically ill, I distanced myself for a while from everything. I have tried not to ignore my body’s signals, after a hard blow, we must listen and take care of ourselves.
I have an excellent circle of support (in person and at a distance). With them, I can talk, but at the same time distract myself. For me, it has been essential to have people with similar beliefs to mine, it has also been essential to think and talk about other things, because obsessing can be a problem.
I didn’t bury my emotions, but I also didn’t need to live in pain for too long. That didn’t seem to please some people. They told me they were worried about my lack of tears, without knowing the reality. They made me feel bad about it for a while, until I released myself.
Social expectations are sickening. What is the problem with not crying all day during a bereavement? Do I have to cry in front of everyone I know, so they feel I am grieving? Is it only okay to cry in public, so everyone is happy? Do I have to be judged by how many tears I shed? Would they rather I have depression?
We all grieve as we can, want to and need to. Please don’t judge me by my beliefs, by how I feel, by how I think, by how I cry. If I want to cry while listening to music locked in my bedroom, I will. If others need to cry over the smallest detail that reminds them of their pain, that’s fine.
It has certainly been a difficult year that has allowed me to reevaluate many things. I will probably never live up to other people’s expectations, and that’s perfectly fine. I have experienced sadness like never before, but I decided that grief would not bring me down. It is my way of coping. I decided that the gratitude would outweigh the sadness.
From minute one, as the doctor gave me the news of the passing, I thanked all the people who helped my dad, I thanked him for the love he gave me and I gave thanks for his whole life. As I digested the shock of the news and tears streamed down my cheeks, I was grateful. Sometimes we focus on loss and pain, I want to honor his life.
Image credits: Toni Reed and Estúdio Bloom