Slices of Life Again with the grief!
Slices of Life
Again with the grief!
By Jill Pertler
Grief is an important topic.
Before you think, “Oh, here she goes – again with the grief!”
Just stop.
I understand grief makes you uncomfortable. Hell, if you feel discomfort by simply hearing about grief, consider the discomfort experienced by someone actually in the throes of it.
Yeah, there’s that.
None of us wants to be uncomfortable. And I certainly don’t want to explicitly increase your discomfort.
But here’s the deal: I would ask the same of you.
So, I’m going to offer some tough and perhaps controversial advice.
Please refrain from telling anyone what their grief should look like, or sound like or feel like. Most importantly, don’t tell them to stop grieving. Not ever. Even if it has been 100 years. A million years.
You are full of the best intentions; I understand that. And it pains you to see someone hurting because you are a sensitive and loving friend or brother or sister or fill-in-the-blank here. You truly care and you want your grieving person to live and love and laugh and experience life to the fullest.
After all, it has been five (or six or three or fill-in-the-blank years)… So you tell me to be happy, or to stop spending so much time expressing my grief.
Like any of it is a choice.
Like it is something I am supposed to just get over.
It is neither. Grief is an all-encompassing alteration to your life that you never can get over or escape from or forget. It is with someone 24/7, whether you, the bystander, can see that or not.
Those of us who know grief up close and personal learn to camouflage, or at least shadow it. We understand it repels people, so we often mask the outward and obvious signs. We smile. We make small talk. We look for the good and the gratitude in each day. We make new friends.
No one likes being sad, including us. We try to make the best of the lot we’ve been given. We want to choose happiness. That is our goal. And often, that is what encompasses our day.
As time goes on, we become better at showing our best side, because most days we are actually living it. Grief becomes more private, acknowledged more often during the alone moments.
This doesn’t mean grief is gone. Not at all. It simply isn’t as demonstrably obvious. We learn to not burden others with our burden because we know the weight is heavy.
So, please understand, when we do bring up grief, it is with the utmost aforethought. It is because we deem it absolutely necessary and warranted.
We do so because we trust you. And trust is huge. Trust is hope.
If I bring up grief, or write about it, and you tell me to “think positive thoughts,” it doesn’t come across as helpful.
I’ve tried the whole positive thoughts route. It’s a great theory, but grief doesn’t recognize theories or quick-fixes.
There is no cure-all for grief, and I am so sorry for that. Believe me, I am.
I also apologize if I “keep bringing grief up,” like it is a subject that should be put to rest. You see, just like I had no control over the start of grief in my life, I can’t end it. There is no stopping a runaway train.
Asking someone to stop grieving is like asking a stabbing victim to stop bleeding. There’s no logic in either one.
Instead of this type of direction, may I suggest a different tact?
Instead of: “You seem sad today… Perk up; you have lots to live for!”
I suggest: “You seem sad today… I hope tomorrow is better.” Or, “Are you having a bad day? I understand. Memories can crop up unexpectedly.”
Grief doesn’t stop. It doesn’t heal over like nothing ever happened. At worst it is a bleeding wound. At best it is a scar covered with the healing of time. But it is always present. You learn that early on. You also learn to change yourself around it. You learn to live with the stone in your shoe.
Overtime, that stone becomes smaller and less sharp – sometimes it’s hardly noticeable, even.
But it’s still underfoot - always. And if you consider yourself my friend, please don’t tell me to pretend that it’s not there.
Much love.
(Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated columnist, published playwright, author and member of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. Don’t miss a slice; follow the Slices of Life page on Facebook.)



