11 Things no one tells you about grief

Well, if you are friends with me on Facebook, you probably saw that Sunday is the 11th anniversary of my dad's death.  August 11th is my singularly least favorite day of the year (yes, even including Father's Day).  So, you may be able to expect some posts this week- probably about grief.  Then again, I promised in my profile that I may not be the most consistent blogger ever.

Today I was thinking about all of the things no one tells you when you experience a loss or are grieving for any reason.  There are LOTS of things that LOTS of people will tell you.  (You can read more of my thoughts about that here.  That being said, there are lots of things no one ever told me and I wish maybe someone had.  So, without further ado, 11 things no one tells you about grief/loss:

1.  Whatever you're feeling (unless it involves serious thought about ending anyone's life) is okay and it's normal.  Insanely mad for zero obvious reasons?  Okay.  Abnormally worried someone else might die?  Okay.  The trick is to acknowledge the emotion and work through it so that it doesn't rule your life.

2.  There will likely come a day in several weeks, months, or years, when you realize you didn't think about your loved one for an entire day.  It's okay that you didn't- you haven't forgotten him/her.  It's okay that you feel guilty about it.  Most of our loved ones would want us to move forward and not be consumed by grief.  I think the best way we honor those who have gone before us is to live life to the fullest and carry on their legacies.

3.  At some point, some well-meaning person will say something insanely idiotic.  Even better, it might be someone of your same faith who distorts your shared theology.  As you inwardly visualize yourself turning into a lion and mauling them to death (okay, maybe that's only me), have grace for them- they really are trying to be comforting.

4.  Most people expect to miss the person and things about them.  What may hit you like a semi is the lost future you have with that person.  I've mourned much more over the friends my dad will never meet this side of Heaven and the events he'll never make it to.  It took me years before I could watch the father/bride dance at a wedding and not inwardly weep or have to get away.

5.  Nothing will ever be the same, but that doesn't mean everything will suck forever.  Sometimes I am keenly aware that a holiday or event is missing someone important.  Other times, I enjoy the new traditions I've made since my dad passed away.

6.  Everyone handles grief differently.  Not only is that okay, it's a beautiful thing.  Make room for the differences and celebrate them.  Communicate what you need.

7.  At some point, the immediate outpouring of friends and obvious support will start to wane.  Give grace to others.  They're still there and they want to help, it's just less obvious how to help after the initial shock.  Communicate your needs and let people in.  Also, give yourself some grace if you get mad that others have moved on with their lives while you simply can't.  It's okay you haven't and it's okay they seemingly have.

8.  At some point, someone will come to you for your expertise on grief.  Yes, you are now an expert.  Remind them that everyone is different, but give them some pointers.

9.  Have grace.  Have grace for yourself on days when getting out of bed is a victory.  Have grace for the days where you just need to pretend you're fine.  Have grace for others when they let you down.  Have grace for those who don't understand.  Have grace for the well-meaning people who drive you insane.  Have grace for the person who interrupts your dinner, when you finally went an hour without being consumed by grief, and tells you they're so sorry.  Have grace for the person who makes your grief about them, who needs you to console them for the loss of YOUR loved one.

10.  Do what you need to do.  If you need to cry, cry.  If you need to be angry, be angry.  If you need to become a vegetarian, become a vegetarian (yes, I know someone who did it).  If you need to yell at God, yell (I promise, He can handle it).  If you need to pretend, pretend.  Don't worry about fulfilling the expectations others have on you.  At the same time, don't stay where you are forever.  Lean on your family, community, and Jesus and start to try and move forward- not just attempt to put back together what will be forever missing a piece.

11.  Grief doesn't play by the rules.  It comes at you in the sneakiest of times.  For years, I cried sometimes when I saw a yellow pickup truck (my dad's dream car when he died).  I wept watching the movie What a Girl Wants because I so deeply identified with the girl.  At the same time, joy comes in the weirdest places.  I smile when people talk about Panchos, remembering how much my dad loved it. I smile when I realize I've done something (like completing my first semester of grad school) that would make him proud.

I hope this helps.  It's some of the things I would have liked to have known.  Maybe it's better I didn't.  Feel free to comment with your other lessons.