People Who Need People
I don't know how I'd be surviving without the people in my life. Honestly, I am so often in my own head and my own pain or so busy trying to manage this widowed mom thing that I know I am not the best friend or family member. Yet my people never walk away or make me feel badly about what I am able to give right now. It humbles me. It helps me to count my blessings when all I can see are my troubles.
Seeing how one's own grief impacts the people in our life has been fascinating (to me- but I am often fascinated by human behavior). Mostly I've seen love - I've been surrounded by so much of it. It's incredible. People really are good and kind at heart, and I've been blessed to be on the receiving end of a lot of that goodness. From my people and some I didn't even consider. I've seen kindness, compassion, sympathy...and apathy, indifference, and silence. It's been amazing, humbling, overwhelming, beautiful, difficult, lovely, and bittersweet. Because in my experience, I've noticed you can divide the people in your life during your grief journey into three groups:
1. Your people: Your inner circle, your closest friends, your family, your people. They've always been there and will continue to be there, so with them, you let yourself grieve hard…no need for a game face or to try to be anything but the mess you are. You can be real and raw with them, and oh, what a relief that is. They will make sure you have arrangements handled, that you have groceries, you are eating, your kids are getting where they need to be, and that you are not falling into a deep hole of despair and staying in bed all day (not that they would blame you if you did). They will do what they’ve always done – love you, even as their hearts break along with yours. This doesn't stop after a few months, either....they hold your hand through all the brutal "firsts," continue to check on you, and just love you. Unconditionally and completely.
2. The Sweet Surprises: these are the people you didn't expect. Other friends, old friends you haven't seen/talked to in ages, even mere acquaintances, people you work with (even the ones you didn’t think even knew your name), church people, and your people's people and friends. They will bring you food, send you cards and gifts, messages of support and love, check on you, come visit, send your kids things…in short, they will offer you a completely unexpected shoulder on which to lean. It is overwhelmingly humbling.
3. The Fade-Outs: This is the group that makes you appreciate the others that much more. These are people you are close to – family and friends – who, once the business of the death (funerals, etc.) has concluded, simply fade away from your life. They don’t call, they don’t text or write, nothing. You don’t notice their absence right away, but eventually you do. Someone will ask if you’ve talked to so-and-so or how they’re doing, and you’ll realize that you haven’t talked to them in a while. Maybe you’ll reach out, thinking that you missed a message or something. It won't go far. One of the hardest things you’ll do is to learn to let this hurt, and these people, go. You can rationalize a lot of it away: grief is hard. Who knows that better than you? Grief is the worst job in the world, and a lot of people don’t know how to handle it. Maybe they don’t know what to say or when to say it, and rather than try to figure it out or maybe say the wrong thing, they simply don’t say anything at all. Maybe they think it’s easier for you. Maybe they think you're doing great and don't need to be checked on. Who knows? Personally,I have found it easiest to chalk this up to grief (theirs) and let it go. Because it truly is not a reflection on me. It's not like I don't have enough else to focus on, so letting go isn't as hard as it might usually be. It actually feels good to let it go, at least for me.
1. Your people: Your inner circle, your closest friends, your family, your people. They've always been there and will continue to be there, so with them, you let yourself grieve hard…no need for a game face or to try to be anything but the mess you are. You can be real and raw with them, and oh, what a relief that is. They will make sure you have arrangements handled, that you have groceries, you are eating, your kids are getting where they need to be, and that you are not falling into a deep hole of despair and staying in bed all day (not that they would blame you if you did). They will do what they’ve always done – love you, even as their hearts break along with yours. This doesn't stop after a few months, either....they hold your hand through all the brutal "firsts," continue to check on you, and just love you. Unconditionally and completely.
2. The Sweet Surprises: these are the people you didn't expect. Other friends, old friends you haven't seen/talked to in ages, even mere acquaintances, people you work with (even the ones you didn’t think even knew your name), church people, and your people's people and friends. They will bring you food, send you cards and gifts, messages of support and love, check on you, come visit, send your kids things…in short, they will offer you a completely unexpected shoulder on which to lean. It is overwhelmingly humbling.
3. The Fade-Outs: This is the group that makes you appreciate the others that much more. These are people you are close to – family and friends – who, once the business of the death (funerals, etc.) has concluded, simply fade away from your life. They don’t call, they don’t text or write, nothing. You don’t notice their absence right away, but eventually you do. Someone will ask if you’ve talked to so-and-so or how they’re doing, and you’ll realize that you haven’t talked to them in a while. Maybe you’ll reach out, thinking that you missed a message or something. It won't go far. One of the hardest things you’ll do is to learn to let this hurt, and these people, go. You can rationalize a lot of it away: grief is hard. Who knows that better than you? Grief is the worst job in the world, and a lot of people don’t know how to handle it. Maybe they don’t know what to say or when to say it, and rather than try to figure it out or maybe say the wrong thing, they simply don’t say anything at all. Maybe they think it’s easier for you. Maybe they think you're doing great and don't need to be checked on. Who knows? Personally,I have found it easiest to chalk this up to grief (theirs) and let it go. Because it truly is not a reflection on me. It's not like I don't have enough else to focus on, so letting go isn't as hard as it might usually be. It actually feels good to let it go, at least for me.
Regardless, as much as grief is our own personal journey, we don't walk alone. There are so many others on our path, whether they chat us up and keep us company or walk beside or behind us, quietly letting us know their heart is with us. My path is currently rough and rocky, and I know I wouldn't be moving forward on it without my people helping me along the way, with compassion, laughter, and love. So much love. Thank you, my beloved, sweet, kind, funny, silly, wonderful people. My love and gratitude are more than I could ever put into words. Thank you for lighting my way.
"Contrary to what a lot of people believe (or hope), comfort doesn't take the pain away. Comfort slides in beside the pain, pulling up a chair so that we have something more than sorrow in our hearts. Comfort gently expands our spirits so that we can breathe again. Comfort opens our eyes so we can see possibility again. And on those days, whether it is the next day or five years removed, on that day when grief rears its dark head again, comfort helps us remember that pain is not all there is." - Peggy Haymes
Comments
Post a Comment