Photo Credit: Adrien Tutin
Most people in the throes of grief long for the day when the pain and confusion will lessen, when grief will 'loosen its grip' so that they can experience happiness again, even when they can’t really believe that day will ever come. But when that day does come — the day where you find yourself laughing out loud and really enjoying yourself, where you are looking forward to a new hobby or a special event, where you notice you haven’t thought about the person who died all day — when that longed-for moment finally comes you can be hit with an unexpected wave of grief, in the all-too-familiar but somehow still surprising form of guilt and self-doubt.
The longed-for happiness can feel like betrayal: How dare I be happy when he/she is dead? What right do I have to enjoy this meal, this beauty, this fun moment when he/she will never enjoy this again? Does this mean I didn’t love him/her? The longed-for happiness can feel like forgetting: Does this mean I am leaving him/her behind? The longed-for happiness can feel inappropriate: How can I be happy when I’m supposed to be sad? What if others think I’m not sad enough? Will they think I’m moving on too soon?
Grief is full of surprises that way — it can get you coming and going. First you long for the day when you won’t be thinking so painfully of your loved one all the time, then when that day arrives you are confused or even frightened by the experience. We can feel disloyal to the past as we take a step into the future. So how can we take the necessary steps to re-engage in life without feeling like we are doing something wrong? How can we resolve these conflicting desires?
First, it might help to understand that feeling this conflict is very natural in grief. It is not only normal and natural to have these mixed feelings, it is actually an indication that a healthy grief process is underway. Grief demands many things of us, and some of these things are inherently conflicting, opposites, asking us to do two things at once.
Healthy grieving requires both that we focus on the person who has died and that we focus on living without that person. On the one hand, we must give our attention to the pain of loss — we must fully mourn what is gone and acknowledge that it is not coming back. On the other hand, we must adapt to the new and often unwanted world that we find ourselves in.
Healthy grieving requires that we give our attention to these “opposite” realities, to both the past and future, so to speak. If we don’t, we can get stuck in one or the other — stuck in the past: paralyzed by painful emotions without being able to take any steps forward, or stuck in the future: too busy moving forward to allow any room for working through the loss. Allowing ourselves to fully mourn what is gone as well as to experience what goodness still exists allows us over time to shift our focus from longing for the life we had to reengaging in the life we have. This is the healing process of grief.
So when we are grieving in a healthy manner, our focus and energy naturally shifts back and forth between the loss and the rebuilding, the past and the present. In time a shift in focus occurs as we spend less energy mourning what is lost and more energy engaged in what still remains, moving our attention to the world around us and the possibilities that still exist for a meaningful and possibly even happy life. This process occurs through little steps and big steps —although to me as a grief counselor, even the little steps that a grieving person takes are in fact big steps. Every step is significant in this journey!
A little step (that is really a big step) can be as simple (and as profound) as noticing a moment of enjoyment or happiness when it does occur and then allowing that awareness to fill your being instead of dismissing it as inappropriate. It can be a discipline, like noting one thing daily that is source of happiness or meaning (even if it is the same thing day after day for awhile) or keeping a gratitude journal.
A bigger step might be actively choosing small personal activities, simple pleasures like a nap, a walk outdoors, a hot bath, time with a beloved pet. Other big steps: outings with friends or family, a renewed hobby, pursuing a new interest or an old interest that was not available to you while the deceased was alive. Sometimes, and this can be very difficult to acknowledge and accept, the death results in unexpected freedom — especially after long caregiving or strong personality differences. It is an especially big step to accept and embrace that freedom, to allow yourself to explore and experience activities — a part of you, really — that may have been set aside for the relationship.
Sometimes there is nothing — little or big — that seems to bring enjoyment, but allowing times of respite from the pain is crucial in healing, just as it would be if you were recovering from a physical injury. Distracting yourself from the pain (as long as it isn’t self-destructive or your only way of coping) can also be a step forward: exercise, work, computer games, humor, even mindless TV.
Often when I talk about this with someone who is grieving, the concept of happiness or enjoyment — much less the concept of a future without this special person — seems way too large. Unattainable. When that is the case, I ask them to think about anything — anything— that brings a spot of color to their now-colorless world, or something that brings a sense of lightness in their heaviness, a spark of light in the darkness. Something that at least helps to recharge their drained battery. I ask — What still matters? What still has meaning?
All of these questions are a way of exploring our way toward healing — each answer is a stepping stone that begins to form a path through the uncharted territory of grief. Even the smallest step is a big step — and most importantly, a stepping stone that makes it possible to take the next step forward. If we think of the future as THE FUTURE, it can paralyze us. So we concentrate on whatever step we can take right now, affirming that we are moving forward.
For those that have lost a life partner or spouse, a particular challenge in moving on is whether to consider a new relationship. Strong conflicting feelings can arise when imagining being with a new person. For some, a new relationship is a distraction from the grief, for others, it offers much-needed support for working through the grief. For some, a new relationship is something important to hope for, a way to continue to love and to give. For others, the mere thought is unimaginable, feels like betrayal, or at the least, feels overwhelming at a time when so much energy is needed just to cope with daily life.
As in all aspects of grief, there is no prescription here, no absolute right and wrong, no calendar showing the “proper time” to begin dating. It is important for someone who is considering dating to ask: Am I trying to replace my partner? Am I working through my loss, or distracting myself so I won’t feel the pain? Am I ready for more loss if this relationship doesn’t work out? Can I handle conflicting feelings among family and friends about this new person in my life? Can I be sensitive to wherever they are in their grief process while I am “moving on?”
If you thought dating was complicated the first time around, there is even more to think about after a loss! Each person navigates this territory in their own way — again there is no right or wrong — but I guarantee you will encounter lots of diverse opinions on this one!
One of the essential keys to healing in grief is finding meaning in this new life, discovering and affirming and re-engaging in whatever it is that still matters to you, despite all that is lost. Moving on and experiencing happiness again — in whatever form that happens for you — does not mean forgetting. Yes we have to let go of something very important — the life that we had with the person who died — we cannot return to that life. But we do not let go of the person — we carry them forward with us in memory even as we rebuild a life without them. In this way, we hold on even while letting go. We hold on even while moving on.
One of my favorite quotes says it beautifully ,
“Like the stars by day, our beloved dead are not seen with mortal eyes. Yet they shine…
Those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words, and what they did is part of what we have become. Thus, even when they are gone, the departed are with us, moving us to live fully. We do best homage to our dead when we live our lives most fully, even in the shadow of their loss.”
Quote is excerpted from:
The Memorial Rituals Book For Healing And Hope, edited by Ann Marie Putter