"Grief simply means you have loved well."
"Your grief is in proportion to how much someone or something meant to you."
Of all the responses given by Elizabeth Lesser, a guest author who frequented Oprah’s Soul Series and panels, these words have provided me with a quorum of comfort today. I’ve got to tell you, this period of mourning has been different from any I have ever experienced for one chilling reason. I have spent most of my time alone. I know there are some people who would envy me the fact that I haven’t had to deal with all the background noise that usually accompanies death: family drama and folks coming by that you have to entertain graciously when all you want to do is climb into a dark hole and disappear. Nevertheless, it's been hell.
Elizabeth goes on to say that one does not grieve well in the 3 days most jobs give you. Grief takes much longer. If you don’t take the time, what’s unsolved emotionally will fester under that persona of functionality and poison you like a cancer that pollutes everything in your life. Most employers and sometimes even people you come in contact with don’t understand that. They want to end their own discomfort by rushing you. Why? Why are people so intimidated by pain? Produce, produce, produce is shoved down our throats from an early age. Live long enough and you’ll find there are some things that will knock you flat on your back and no matter how much you want to get up, you can't.
If there is one cry my soul has made throughout all this, it is to examine the superficialities of my own existence. As much emphasis as is put on performance, that’s not where my value lies. People don’t remember you for that. Nobody is going to cry over you when you die because you saved the company millions of dollars. Nobody is going to mourn the nights you stayed up working or the major events missed in the lives of those you love because of busy doing. Nobody is going to be inspired, impacted or changed by any of it. People will only remember how you made them feel.
How do I make you feel? Do you feel seen, heard and that you matter? That is the heart that beats within me. Is what I am doing aligning with that? My decisions? My job? Do the people I consider as close friends supporting that? If my life is not opening up for that to be released into this world, then my life is not being lived well. When my cousin died and I heard about the services in Virginia or listened as people reflected at his funeral in Durham, not one person talked about how well he graded papers, his staying up late at night making our his lesson plan, whether he wore designer labels or no-name brands, or whether he had swagger or was a savvy businessman. No. Not. One.What they talked about was how he kept some troubled students from committing suicide. They talked about how he believed in a White student whose family member had filled him with such racial hate and bigotry that he got in trouble in school and how my cousin believed in him and changed his White supremacist family member’s views. They talked about how they felt listened to. They talked about his generosity. The lengths he went to to save or inspire just one child to excel not just in history, algebra or English but in life.
When something tragic happens in life, we have a choice. We really do. We choose our attitude about what is happening in our lives. We choose what we’ll focus on and what will be interwoven into the fabric of our lives. We choose how we will live our lives moving forward. Sadly, some folks only remember who didn’t show up. What a waste of time and what a waste of effort! Holding stuff against folks doesn’t change them; it only hardens you. In this experience, I have become aware of it. Out of the annals of my pain came the reality of the moment and the harsher realities of my life. Just as much though, out of my suffering came a genuine desire to be better. I’ve had some disappointments. I’ve had some poor-me moments. I’ve had some tormenting fearful thoughts. I’ve felt like I was going to lose my natural mind. Everything that wasn’t nailed down in my life got pulled apart by the loss and the ensuing grief that followed it.
What I am choosing though is to not waste any of it. It’s not me, but the Greater I Am who is doing the choosing. I’m just not fighting against it. It’s scary to go through something and not know how it’s going to turn out. It’s painful and uncomfortable but this is a holy moment. This is a holy moment. My path has been altered. It hurts, yes. Nonetheless, I don’t just want to stop hurting and to resume business as usual. Instead, I want to attain a greater level of wholeness. I want to see this through God's eyes. If not, my cousin’s death will have no meaning. Unless a loss fuels something Greater in you; then it has no value. As surely as the last breath is taken by your loved one; it is truly their end if it doesn’t power your authentic soul to higher heights and deeper depths. So, I will be patient with myself and trust God. Only He can make all things work together for my good. Only He can make all things beautiful in their time. And So It Is.
Well, it’s dark outside again. Still haven’t quite made my peace with darkness. It still feels like being in a dark hole with no way out. Sort of like a grave. Nevertheless, God is with me and one day the anxiety will cease. He is The Resurrection, you know.
