Blenders & Waves

Shortly after G died, I began hearing the metaphor that grief comes in waves. It recedes and comes, recedes and comes, over and over again.

At that time I kept thinking - no! Grief is like a blender! I felt like I was in my Ninja blender, with every emotion and thought possible being swirled together constantly. There was no ebb and flow. It was a hurricane of pain, confusion, numbness, anger, sorrow, anxiety, frustration and more - all the time, all at once.

15 months later, I can finally agree. Grief comes in waves. Not at first. Not for me. But now - yes. I have "good" weeks. I'm putting good in quotes because I don't believe that good is the absence of grief anymore. Grief is its own good. The hard but necessary good. The joy and pain together that is much more a part of life in this broken world than anyone would want us to believe.

Nonetheless, there are days and now weeks when I really do feel okay. I feel like I'm gaining a sense of self and stability. I even wondered if I am ready to decrease my antidepressant dose! But then.. BAM. A memory, a holiday, the change of seasons - and grief hits like a strong wave. I miss G. I resent the fact that he's gone. I have to comfort my son and try to help him trust God when I also don't understand our loss and God's will feels very scary. Anxiety increases. I have to do something on my own that I relied on G to do. I miss him. I miss marriage. I reflect on the beautiful moments we had. I remember the awful things we endured.

And then it subsides. Not forever. It subsides only to come again.

While part of me wants the pain of grief to go away, another part of me holds onto it, not wanting it to go. It is a reminder of my love for G. It gives me clarity about what this life is all about (eternity). It helps me to not cling so tightly to this world. It makes me do the necessary work of facing the pain - jumping into the wave as it were (a phrase G used a lot "as it were" that I teased him about because only he and other brilliant communicators ever said that!). I have to let the waves of grief wash over me - even beat me up a bit. Toss me around. Hold me to the bottom for a second where its scary and hard to breathe. But then the wave relents and I have endured and I am that much more ready to face what comes next.

Grief is an integral part of life. I want to hold the joys and sorrows together. Embrace both. Life in the mess of the contradiction. Celebrate and grieve. Love fiercely even though I might lose - I will lose. Because in the end, all I have is Christ. Every other person - even my own body- I will lose. Only Christ will remain. So I want to cling to him. And trust him in the waves. Find joy in the breaks. And experience everything in between.