Grief, I have seen written and have been told, gets better with time. For those of us that have lost someone dear to us, whether that be human or animal, we often hear the cliche, “Time heals all wounds.” Does it? I have a different take on grief and time.
My mother has been gone now, at least in body and voice, since August 31, 2023. I have had my moments since then where I am able to muddle through my day and function, pretending to care about the trivial parts of life, which are many. There are other times when I have sat, head in my hands, weeping heavy, screaming “Momma!” at the top of my lungs, thankful that I am alone when I bellow. I have found that as the monster of time walks slightly behind me, scratching at my back, that I grieve for her more. With each day that passes, it becomes another day that I am away from her, making me miss her more. For instance, when my wife has left for several days for a work event and with each passing day, I miss her more. Except I am hopeful that my wife will return from her absence, where my mother, or others I have lost over the years, will never come back. They are gone, and when I sit with this reality, I miss them more, not less. I grieve for them more with each passing day, not less. Therefore, time does not heal my wounds, it becomes a gash in my soul that will never mend.
The part that is important with the never ending grief, is to accept it. Do not deny your feelings and emotions. Do not deny that you struggle some days to simply take a full breath when you think of that person, or even when you don’t. Their absence sits heavy on your chest and can sneak up on you, leaving you gasping. That is okay, and normal, so accept it. What is not normal is ignoring your pain, allowing others to ignore that you are in pain, and expecting you to carry on with a fake smile and good posture. You can slump. You can frown. You can cry and bellow, just do so with love for all that you have lost, and to care for yourself. Tend to your grieving and hold it tightly.
Despair is a challenging adversary. It is difficult to fall into that dark tunnel and navigate. Grief, I believe, is not to be navigated, subdued, or submitted. It is not to be ignored. It is to be understood as a layer of the love that you had for the person you lost. Depression is not unlike grieving. One must tend to it because ignoring it makes it worse. When one grieves so heavily, depression is often a result. With that, when someone already struggles with the darkness, despair, and hopelessness of depression, grief adds a layer that takes away more light. Depression then becomes heavier. It is like a fast moving river with a current that pulls you under every so often, and then releases you to take a breath so you can survive. However, those little moments of breathing are a sabbatical from the pain you feel and nothing more.
As my life progresses, and I hope that it does for a long while, leaving me with experiences of both great joy and suffering, I feel the need to constantly be reflecting on my relationship with myself. What is that relationship? For me it is asking a few questions: Have I been true to myself? Have I done my best to live the life I want? Have I helped and served others the best I could without losing myself in the process? Have I loved and have those I loved known it? Was I a good man, consistent in my virtues, ethics, and morals? Was I self-aware enough to understand the chaos in my mind, the past traumas and how they impact me, and did I bring calm to those around me? Did I have the experiences in life that helped me grow and develop? Did I give more than I took?
A question I ponder, and one that helps me think about my actions, words, and how I make others feel is, will there be peace in the end? When I am lying on my deathbed, preparing for the next journey, will I have lived my life well enough that someone will grieve for me? If they do, I hope they understand that time does not heal all wounds, but my love for them may help stitch the wound up just enough to stop the bleeding.
