It’s hard to believe we are at the end of our Good Grieving journey. It has been such an honor to walk alongside you and to share the stories and emotions of loss with you. I am grateful for your investment in this because this isn’t only for you but for a world that desperately needs people who respect and understand and move toward grieving people. And as we’ve talked about, grief is a lifetime companion, so learning to peacefully coexist with it is critical.
During this last session, I wanted to rewind through everything we’ve been through and leave you with some ideas that I hope you’ll carry with you as you move forward, things I hope will make life a little less turbulent and make the past, current, and future injuries just a bit easier to sustain.
I want you to remember that you are grieving the right way. When we talk about good grieving, it’s never been about a judgment that declares your grieving bad. The goodness has been about finding strategies, practices, or ways to think that allow us to endure trauma and to be able to navigate it in ways that are healthy and minimally invasive. So hold on to the truth that you are not getting this wrong, and you are not too anything: too emotional, too inconsistent, too needy, too anything. These losses are unprecedented, and you’ve never experienced them before, so this is all new. Have patience with yourself and throw the word “wrong” out the window.
I want you to remember that you are the world’s leading expert on the grieving you are doing. Since your life and your experiences and your relationships, and your loss are once-in-history, never to be repeated ones, not only have you never gone through exactly what you are going through, but no one else has either. There are all sorts of voices speaking into the hows of grieving: great authors and speakers, there are books and courses, and there is wisdom and help to be found there, but one of the most important ways to grieve well is to respect your road and listen to your instincts regarding what you need and how you exist in whatever season you find yourself.
I want you to remember that you are the editor of the story in your head. Things happen to us. We often can’t do anything about the injuries that come through people and through circumstances. As well as we try to plan and as defensively as we try to leave, avoiding pain is impossible. But when the things in life that happen happen, we and only we get to tell ourselves what that means. We get to decide whether the story will be one of a hopeless situation or whether healing, progress, or goodness are still possible. Be mindful of the story you tell yourself about the loss and, most importantly, about your ability to have a present and future that are worth walking into.
I want you to remember that grief lives in your body, that there is a physical, emotional, spiritual, existential, and social cost to that loss. And by keeping that holistic impact in mind, you can make sure that you are building into your daily routine, disciplines, and practices that help you heal and stay strong: take care of your daily needs to diet, sleep, exercise, times of rest and of play, times in solitude and in community. Make sure you’re writing or talking about the way you feel, and spend time with people you can have deep, meaningful conversations about the world. All of this will guard you as you and your body absorb the damage.
I want you to remember that loneliness is unavoidable, but it’s also good. We’ve talked about how community is vital during the grieving that we do, but that there are ultimately limitations because no one can walk all the way into the grief with us. So loneliness in our mourning is inevitable; it’s sometimes isolating, but it’s also a space that exists as one of intimacy with someone we’ve lost or a time of self-care for ourselves. Some of the purest and rawest emotions are there, and to feel that deeply is not a penalty but a privilege.
I want you to remember to grieve the part of you that you’ve lost. We talked about the way that trauma steals part of our identity. When someone we love dies, they take with them half of the history we had with them. We no longer have someone to share those memories with or to fill in the gaps of what we can’t remember. Losing of all kinds, also chips away, changes, or challenges the way we form our sense of self. We eventually become a new version of ourselves. No matter how well we grieve, we are never the same, and it’s a right and even good thing to mourn over the version of yourself that is gone.
I want you to remember that relational grief is recurring trauma. It’s difficult enough to process and respond to a physical death, to someone who is no longer walking the planet. Though that isn’t easy, there are some givens in that, simply because that loss was a one-time or protracted event that left a decisive vacancy in our lives. And whether our relationship with them was healthy or strained or toxic, we face the decided reality of their death. With our grief over people who are still living, the rules are out the window, and we deal with the recurring injury they may be causing, the instability of the changing relationship, or even the possibility of reconciliation. The relational stuff is a real pain, so cut yourself some slack if it’s difficult for you.
I want you to remember that we can’t answer the question of how, only “What, now?” Finding meaning post-loss is possible, but that doesn’t usually involve finding a reasonable or acceptable reason for some of the tragedies we experience or the wounds people can inflict, or the hurt we cause. Those why questions aren’t answerable, and they aren’t worth too much of your time. But there is always a what now question that you have agency to answer. You get to make meaning after the senseless and painful things. You get to define your purpose.
I want you to remember that grief always brings gifts. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t choose this journey. It wasn’t your first option, but that doesn’t make this path useless. You now have perspective and wisdom and priorities and clarified purpose and a new layer of empathy that simply would not have come any other way than through this journey. Do your best to step back and say, what have I learned, who have I become, or how am I being changed by this grief.
Lastly, I want you to remember that loss isn’t good, but grieving can be. Yes, it is the tax on loving people. It is the cost of having someone in your life worth missing or it is a reminder of your own humanity and your capacity to care. Never forget that, despite everything you’ve been through or will go through, as long as you’re here, there is still good to do within you and around you.
Good grieving, my friends.
What have been some takeaways from the series? What have you discovered or remembered about your journey of loss? How are you viewing your grief differently? What from the series will stick? Let me know in the comments.
If you missed any of the sessions, you can watch them on demand in the Video Series tab on the home page.
