10 Women Talk Honestly About Grief
Words by Sarah Hartley, Editor in Chief
Losing a loved one has to be one of the hardest things we can experience as humans. But it’s also something we know will happen, no matter what, at some point in our lives. Dealing with that grief and permanence and inevitability can be overwhelming. But grief can also take many forms in our lives. There is the obvious connection to death and figuring out how to move on and yet not knowing how to. Or grief of a life cut short. You can also grieve the loss of a friendship or relationship or just the end of a certain season of life. Whatever kind of grief you’re experiencing, just know that we’re here for you with a warm hug and a listening ear. The more we talk about it, the more people will come to understand that everyone grieves differently.
10 Women Talk Honestly About Grief
COMPLICATED GRIEF
I’ve known for a long time that grief is very individual. But I didn’t feel the full truth of it until Memere, my maternal grandmother, died last April. That’s when I saw the difference in reactions between myself and many of my cousins.
THE BEST WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
On September 19th, 2015, my father died. He had a heart attack while driving a tractor down a back road outside a small central Illinois town. It was some of the best harvest weather in years, and farmers make the most of good weather, even on a Saturday.
THE GRIEF OF CHOOSING
The burning tears that come with chopping onions feel the same to me as the tears that accompany grief. Grief is not just for death, though many of us think of grief as occurring only then. Rather, grief is a natural reaction to any loss. And loss goes hand in hand with change, so some amount of grief is part of any change.
THE LAYERS OF GRIEF AND HOPE
I remember daddy’s beard - prickly, red - brushing up against my cheek as we kissed goodnight. I remember running into his strong arms when he picked me up from school. He lifted me up so high.
I remember hearing big words that meant nothing to me: Bi-polar disorder. Chronic Fatigue Immune Deficiency Syndrome. Dad was sick.
A MOTHER’S DISAPPEARANCE
When I was fifteen, my life changed completely. My whole world was turned upside down. I remember this day like it happened yesterday. It’s funny, because most times I can’t even remember what I wore the day before. This day, however, is so fresh in my mind. I think about it quite often. May 25, 2001, my mother was taken from me.
LETTING IT HURT: THE PROCESS OF GRIEVING
I spent the following months making new friends and starting new hobbies. It was actually a pretty great season of my life. But I could only keep busy for so long. By the time a year had passed, I still felt an aching void and was furious that nothing seemed to be filling it. Most of all, though, I was angry at myself. Hadn’t I gotten over this already?
FINDING PURPOSE AFTER THE LOSS OF A CHILD
The day after Easter, 2012, I waddled into the doctor’s office for my 30-week check-up. After having two girls, we were ecstatic to be finally having a boy. My pregnancy had been normal, so I was definitely not expecting these words from my doctor’s mouth, “There is something wrong. His head is measuring on the big side. I want you to schedule an appointment with a fetal specialist right away.”
FROM DEATH TO LIFE
My husband and I, along with our two children, made the long drive from our East Coast home to the rural Midwest town where my dad resided. Though I had spent my growing up years in the general area, I was only vaguely familiar with the stretch of road that would now be forever etched in my mind.
I MISS MY MOM
I sat in the fitting room with tears rolling down my eyes. I wanted to scream at her next door, “You should be so lucky to have her! I can’t believe that you’re treating your mom so terribly. My mom is dead. I would give ANYTHING to get to shop with her today. I can’t believe you’d say such mean things to your mom. Appreciate her while she’s here!”
3 WAYS TO SUPPORT SOMEONE WHO IS HURTING
In 2008, my baby daughters died a few weeks after they were born and I found myself navigating an unwanted and overwhelming season of grief. I didn’t know where to begin the long, winding road to healing. I remember looking at myself in the mirror on the day of my daughters’ funerals and wondering what in the world I was going to do now. What was even more disappointing was that no one else seemed to know what to do either.
