From Concerned Caregiver: Grieving Plus…
Before I decided to break from Instagram for the month of July (2023), I had a question in my DMs about grieving AND living.
Here’s the question:
“How do you grieve when have to jump into taking care of other things? Obviously getting advice for me, not saying you are doing this. I felt like I was never able to grieve my brother bc I had to jump back into church stuff and go go go and with my mom, I needed to immediately take care of my dad. As you know, the caregiver schedule is chaotic.”
I’d been sharing a little bit on Instagram about grieving and grieving well. Honestly, I was struggling with how I was presenting myself online - smiling, functioning, living…
When the truth of the matter was that I was “cleaning myself up” to show up on the platform, just like I was trying to do in my everyday, offline life.
It was just that I was grieving the death of my sweet husband. It was that I was also recovering from having been his caregiver - in the very intimate sense of the experience - and what that did to the last 13 months of our marriage. It’s exhausting being a caregiver. You have so much to learn to do it well. Even if you are a professional in that field, you are having to navigate the personal relationship with the person who is declining and needs so much from you that they can no longer do for themselves.
Add that to having to continue to show up for others (and for yourself).
The message is that we are to keep going. I’ve even said this to myself and others - “the only way through is through”. But, this sentiment requires movement. And while I do believe that we have to move to heal, I think the rate at which we move back into/toward normal is often too quick and too unhealed.
I too lost my brother. My only sibling. He was injured in a motorcycle accident on his 40th birthday. The accident left him paralyzed from the neck down. He died from complications related to breathing. My relationship with my brother was complicated. We weren’t as close as I would have liked to be - so different in our lifestyles and beliefs, we were just shy of estranged. When he died, I needed to be available to others and at the same time, was trying to manage my own complex feelings about his death and the death of my first husband (who died in 2005). It was all a big jumbled up mess in my heart and yet it seemed that the death of my brother wasn’t enough of a reason to put my life on hold and simply stop for a season.
Several years later and now after having been widowed again, I understand the temptation to just keep moving.
Life needs to be lived, right?
We’re only getting older, yes?
And with aging comes more death. So, let’s get on with it…
I certainly hope no one says that to you. But, it’s the sentiment, right? It’s the way.
Which makes my response to this question difficult because it requires going against the unhealthy, hectic flow…
I believe the best thing to do is to take a solo retreat - which can be difficult to do - even 5 hours away to hike, get/sit outside and be alone and focus on two things.
One. What you need IN ORDER to grieve.
Really take some time to think and pray about this.
The best way I can recommend to do this is to consider how you want to move through your grief and then stack your resources + support to set you up for that path. For example, I knew I needed a faith based grief support system to help me through my shock. And the church I’m now attending was actually providing that shortly after my husband died (2023). I was in a community of others whose hearts were torn out but who did not want to turn away from the Lord in their pain. And even though no one else in the group had been widowed, we were learning about the pain in community and it helped us to be able to feel our pain together.
The other thing I did was continued therapy with a counselor who understands the Bible. She would always ask permission to reference scripture or give me input, but it matters that I was being tethered to what I know to be true even though I was sometimes confused and hurt by the way my husband’s life on Earth ended.
I knew I needed a few good, listening friends and though I still fear wearing them out, I try and speak with them and solicit prayer when the darkness of grief try to overtake me.
Once you know what you need, you’ll also want to prioritize communicating that to people around you so they can help protect your time doing these things and to hold you accountable when your desire to flee, hide + numb attempt to take over. You will also need to talk about boundaries - knowing who can enter the inner circle of your pain without causing more harm will be necessary. I know it’ll be a heavy lift to do these things, but once they are prioritized and protected, it’ll lighten your load and let you focus more on your grief.
Two. What you need to release.
This has been harder for me.
And were it not for God’s patience and mercy, I’d probably be completely alone without any relationships, any work and any purpose.
But, you’ve got to let some things go. Though it’s possible to “go, go, go” - where all that movement takes us is straight toward burnout, bitterness + brokenness. It will feel like a punishment (at least it has for me), but being moved from positions you once sought comfort or praise in will give you room to feel + heal. For me, it was the role at work - which God changed for me. It was also Facebook and Instagram (for a season). I also needed to let go of the type of relationship/communication I had with my son - he couldn’t be my therapist and best friend, he was grieving my husband too.
For you, it might be something else. To figure out what that something else is, I encourage you to take time during your solo retreat to look at where you’re constantly experiencing conflict, consternation + contention. The interactions, environments + relationships where peace is non-existent. The places and conversations where your grief causes discomfort and you question whether it’s okay to be you in your pain or if you need to button it up for the benefit of others.
Because we are a society/culture that already struggles with rest + refreshing retreats, grief is often a dealbreaker for fragile dealings in our daily lives.
Though everyone will grieve, since it’s not happening at the same time, there is hardly a collective understanding of what is needed until it bring someone to their knees. It’s lonely - truly resting away from the crowd, the demands, the spotlight - but if you are going to heal in healthy ways, you’ll need to know what you need. And for that, I recommend taking time to get away with your journal, a pen and your Bible to really hear what God wants to restore in you as you walk this narrow, difficult path.
With Love,
Regina
