Going Through It

There is an old German and British tradition of stopping clocks and/or covering their faces at the time of a loved one’s death. While this visible demonstration of what losing someone feels like, it’s impractical. Life, in fact, does not stop. I rediscover that with each monumental death I experience and it feels like medieval torture.

I remember being just ten years old when an infant sibling died. It was the second death I’d experienced, but the first at an age of understanding. I remember feeling appalled that the world had the audacity to continue spinning, fury that not only did traffic keep moving, but business continued, and worst of all? People LAUGHED! Other people still had levity. I felt as though I would never understand this juxtaposition of a whole world shattered while THE whole world marched on.

Grief sometimes feels like that. The gut punch, breath-stealing reality of disbelief. It is paralyzing. Similar to how a pregnant mind constantly is preoccupied with the new life inside, a grief-laced brain struggles to make connections and any meaningful sense. It’s called brain fog for a reason, and it’s a very common physical manifestation of the deep-seated heartache of grief.

What is one to do in this state of mind? It’s often hard to do anything at all. Getting out of bed when you feel the weight of an elephant sitting on your chest is monumental. Then the effort to get ready to go, never mind the actual drudgery to amp yourself to be IN the world. And if you have a job – especially a job where you have to serve others – it can feel next to impossible at times. Throw performance metrics on top of just showing up and you have a recipe for a very difficult season.

When the waves of grief sucker-punch you- like when an ice breaker at a business meeting asks what your favorite Thanksgiving tradition is –and yours are all including your recently dead mom – you just let the tears fall. It’s ok. It’s real, and it’s necessary for healing. A scab has to heal from the inside out. A broken heart is the same. Along the way, it might feel a bit raw, but that is all part of the process.

You can cover the face of a clock to hide the mechanisms. You can even stop the clock from functioning to honor the dead, but you can’t stop time from progressing and while it’s painful, the only way to the other healing/healed side of the trauma is through. You can’t get “over” it. You can’t move “under” it. You can’t get “around” it. You simply must go “through” it.

I’m with you on the journey. Reach out if I can be of help to you.