Holidays and calendar days and milestone events, and celebrations, and parties, and get-togethers all really do keep popping up, don’t they? From Father’s Day/ Mother’s Day, anniversaries, birthdays, birth announcements, New Year’s Eve to the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day, and Family Day, it’s understandable that these moments bring back a waterfall of emotions and feelings. Even if these days aren’t always a big deal for you, the feelings of love and togetherness are everywhere, which can sometimes be triggering as they bring up memories of your person who has passed.
I have thought a lot about this connection between love and loss and the love we feel inside of our grief since my father passed, and I thought I would share some of the ‘love and loss quotes’ I stumbled across…
“Grief is love. “
“Grief is love with no place to go.”
“What is grief, if not love persevering? “
“Grief is the price we pay for love. “
There are probably countless more ‘grief-intertwined-with-love’ quotes and euphemisms floating around, and they’re all poignant and true on some level, right? I don’t flinch when I read them or quickly reject them for being too Pollyanna-ish. It’s just that all feel a little a little… um… too desperate in their efforts to answer a huge and nagging question: What is grief, and can there be ‘hope’ in grief?
And if that’s the question, these answers honestly seem to fall short to calm my heart. They make the grief experience sound so one-note because grief is huge, and more than a few feelings, and grief is messy, confusing, lonely, tiring, and scary, and some questions will never have a ‘good enough answer’ –“Why them?”, “Why now?”, “Did I do enough?”’ “Did I do everything I could?” “Did I say I love you enough?” or “How do I live without them?” And so, these euphemisms feel trite, insulting, and like they are just another platitude meant to Hollywood or minimize the anguish out of grief.
Yes, of course, grief is love – we wouldn’t be devastated if we did not love and care deeply for our person. But the painful ‘loving’ part of grief is knowing that we must continue to love them within our memories – no more time together, no more travel buddy, emotional support, cheerleader, hobby partner, travel pal, hugs or cuddles, hand-holding, kisses, hearing their voice, or smelling their wonderful scents, or who we were with them – mother, father, sibling, child, best friend grandmother or grandfather, aunt/ uncle… poof – death stole all of that and a trillion other essentials that made up who they were to us.
And then I found this: “Perhaps the most painful kind of love is called grief, which happens when the object of a person’s love is taken away with no hope for return.
And that helped my heart get here:
• Grief is love, and the confusion that comes from not knowing how to love someone who is gone.
• Grief is love’s frustration, bitterness, anger, and resentment at death’s destruction.
• Grief is love realizing that, if it wants to thrive, it has to be creative and find new ways to connect and find fulfillment.
And that helped me to get here in my own grief:
- Perhaps the most painful kind of love is called grief because it can no longer be returned to me daily.
- Grief is my love, and the confusion is caused by not knowing how to love someone who has passed.
- Grief is my frustration, bitterness, anger, and resentment stemming from my love for dad that came at the hand of a death that was too soon [always too quickly].
- Grief is love realizing that if it wants to survive and thrive, it has to be creative and find new ways to connect, cherish, and honour my father.
- Grief is love’s unrelenting power to live on so that I can continue to love my father in his eternal absence from my physical world.
- Grief is love’s way of holding on, even when it’s so physically and emotional heart-breaking. It’s about stretching our connections with our person who passed and learning how to continue our loving bonds with them even though they are not here with us in our lives physically on earth.
When my beloved Father passed, I began to feel, understand and accept how deeply I could miss him and how much pain his void in my life and heart caused. And when I understood that death did not end a relationship, it meant that I had to learn how to have that relationship in different ways, and to see and feel that my grief was equal to the enormity and unwavering of my love for him – and it’s called grief. And when I understood that as long as I continue to love Dad, I will continue to grieve for him.
I had to accept certain facts about death – it is unfair, it is random, it is horrific, there is no silver lining, it is forever, and it will tattoo me in certain ways. Also true, there is another side to the darkness of grief – light.
Acceptance of the dark led to peace. My love for Dad will always, and forever, be in my heart, because that is where Dad’s love has always lived. And, my love will remain, unwavering, boundless, and intense. And that has to be enough because it’s all there is now… love through memories and shared stories, and with his trinkets and treasure that I have around my apartment, all of which keep me in love and tied to him.
The hopeful side of grief shows up as we plead, “Will I always feel this way?” and “Will grief always feel so painful?” And, for many, the answer is “No, you will not be in such an acute, grief-stricken, emotional and physical state. And, yes, while grief is forever, the sorrow can [and does] soften when we learn about grief and share it with people who understand its complexities and depths.” This is one of the dualities of grief: sorrow and love.
Time does not soften grief; it’s what you do with that time that softens grief.
My grief softened with the wisdom I gained from therapy about what grief is, and what it feels like [feelings, emotions and thoughts] and looks like [our actions and behaviours].
Eventually, I came into a place of balance, peace, and harmony. And in that place, I saw my hopefulness bloom… I understood that living my life without Dad will never mean that I will never forget Dad, or stop loving, or feeling his presence or hearing his voice in my head – not ever.
Living a life with both love and loss allowed me to feel my dark feelings that are tied to missing Dad, and also have room for the brighter colours like smiling, laughing, finding happiness and new experiences, all with less pain and sorrow piercing my heart as I continue to navigate the earth without my beloved Father.
Yes, grief still stuns me when I am triggered about Dad’s birthday or Father’s Day or my birthday because I understand the calendar will always be a bully. But now, I am no longer shattered for days and weeks like I was in the beginning – it’s more of a wobble than a wave that crushes me because I know that something is reminding me of ‘no more making memories’ with Dad.
Is my world a little less bright without Dad – of course, he brought so much brightness and soulfulness and humour to my life – like taking me from an eight-pack of Crayola crayons to the 120-pack with the built-in sharpener. Do I still wish I could ask for his sage advice – of course, but I also know exactly what he would tell me because his wisdom lives in my mind. Do I miss Dad – of course, and then I bring him to me by touching/smelling/or wearing a piece of his clothing, looking at his eyeglasses that are always on my desk, and using his pocket dictionary that is inside my desk drawer. Dad is always with me through all his trinkets and treasures, and always with me in my memories and in my heart. Dad and I are connected through love, and no amount of grief will ever break or dent that bond.
So, with tenderness, I share with you that you will love and you will grieve. And you will grieve, and you will always love.
For hope to bloom in your grief, I’d like you to try and bring the word ‘and’ into your grief vocabulary. Whisper it to yourself whenever you have a grief-related feeling, emotion or a thought. In time, you will see grief soften and allow hope to take root.
Here are some ‘and statements’ that you can try out:
“I am grieving, AND I know that I am always connected to everything my beloved was to me and with me throughout their life.”
“I feel devastated, AND I know that it’s me missing them in my life.”
“I feel anger [rage] that death stole my person from me without permission AND I know that this feeling makes sense. They were so important to me and such an important part of my life that it makes sense to feel angry because in an instant they went from being in my life to being permanently not in my life.”
“I feel lost without them, AND I am learning how to keep bringing them into my life even though they are physically not here with me.”
“I miss them so much it hurts, AND I can bring them to me through my memories and keepsakes and sharing of stories with others who knew them and by creating new traditions that celebrate them.”
“I don’t know who I am without them, AND I will always be their wife, husband, mother, father, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, grandmother, grandfather, best friend because death ends a life, never a relationship.”
“Yes, the pain of grief is inescapable, AND I do not have to suffer with it alone.”
“I am sad, AND I am allowing myself to feel ‘happy/ sad’ in my grief . I am allowing brighter feelings to bloom inside of me because I know it does not diminish my love for my beloved.”
“I understand death is forever, AND so is my love for the person who died.”
“I grieve for them, And I love them.”
“I love them, And I mourn them.”
My hope with this post is to be a gentle reminder that, beneath the stress, frustration, anger, disappointment, despair, guilt, loneliness, heartache, physical pain, and sorrow of your grief, love remains, and, as always, so does ‘hope’.
