It was a beautiful day in July, much like this. I had been to the hospital visiting my sister; she was in a comma by then. So surreal, seeing her like that. Only days before, we’d talked and hugged. At 36, she was full of life–happy, married, mom of two, work she loved. Now, barring a miracle….
Emotions filled so many spaces that day. Overwhelmed, I left her room and walked to my car, and called Elizabeth. She’d been my maid of honor, we’d known each other forever, we could talk about anything. I needed a place to crash and cry.
I’ll be forever grateful. Madam E welcomed me with a hug, ordered pizza; I cried, and we talked; she listened; we shared; more tears, and pizza… hours… She offered me her couch to stay over. I ended up going back home; those tears and pizza had taken the edge off.
I would make more trips to that hospital in the next couple of weeks, including a last one, as my sister passed.
There’d be more tears–and it’s important to let them flow.
Grief needs a place to drain out of us and clear all of those soul-deep emotions, pulled in and held tightly, all the while everything unimaginable was unfolding.
One needs a safe place to cry. For those soul-deep wounds. And time–as much as it takes–to heal, and allow whatever the new normal is to take shape.
And here’s the hardest, deepest part: to believe and trust that somehow, there’s a greater good coming out of it all…that nothing is wasted, and that everything in our chosen Life and Soul path is necessary.
Why? Because you know as well as I, that after a passage like this, we emerge different, more grounded, seasoned, deeper. Otherwise, without this trust and belief, one becomes angry and bitter and hardened.
What I want you to remember is this:
From a purely human wellness perspective, have a safe place to cry. Don’t be embarrassed, ashamed, or guilty; emotions kept inside, fester, and eventually show up elsewhere, bodily, if not tended to properly.
This isn’t a one-time, get-it-over-with-quickly thing. Emotions don’t work that way. Life plays out in its own timing. That doesn’t mean one stays in sadness or mourning. Like a kid with a temper tantrum, give in to your need to release emotions; go through it, wash them away; then go on living.
You can’t live someone else’s life; yours is the one to be present in, here and now, to experience fully, to find what brings you joy and go there.
Love always, be good to yourself and one another. LIVE this life as if it matters–because it does. – Anne