I am in several grief community Facebook groups. One is more general, one for parents, one for parents whose children died from cancer, and the most specific being for parents whose children died from brain cancer. I was reading posts in the childhood cancer group this morning and a mom was grieving the loss of her child and talking about PTSD. Someone commented about EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). I personally know people who have successfully used this therapy but none of them were dealing with the loss of a child.
In any case, she talked of reliving the death of her child in the family home and having to wait for the funeral home to arrive. It made me remember my own son’s death story. I didn’t want to go into the details of TJ’s death or my trauma, however. I wasn’t going to hijack her sadness and replace it with mine, but it made me think about how I have come to “handle” (and I use that term ever so loosely) my grief.
First of all, I don’t believe grief of this magnitude is figured out. Grief like this doesn’t go away. While we can learn to become friends with the idea that everyone’s time on this Earth is finite and unknown, it is only something we tell ourselves- remind ourselves- to get through the days and nights. But eventually there comes a time- and it WILL come-when we have to dive into the grief. Let it wash over us and through us and carry us away for a short trip in its currant. Water is powerful. It cleanses; it soothes; it rejuvinates; it wraps its arms around you and holds you; it whispers to your heart to let the pain loose.
It is in those moments of intense or even soft grief that we should allow the water in us to wash over our hearts. Don’t be afraid to shed tears. They are your own personal river that can restore your mind and soul for a short time, but only if they are allowed to be. Tears held at bay are not tears. They are penned up emotions pressing at the door of your heart to be let out, to be freed, to be allowed to be useful and do what they do best- restore. And sometimes there are a LOT of tears. Sometimes it’s more than a river. It may be an ocean. Either way, the water will support you and hug you and tell you “It’s okay, mama. You can cry. You can scream. I will carry you for a time. When you are strong again I will bring you to a soft landing on my banks where you will once again journey alongside me. And when you get weary of the walk I am here to carry you once more.”
You see, it is our tears that add depth and strength to the river, allowing it to carry us. The river gets stronger, not weaker, with each new tear that is added to it. So do not be afraid to let loose the water within. Set it free. Let it wash over your heart and your soul. Let it take you downstream for a while. And when you are ready, grab hold of a branch and step back onto the banks. Your renewed heart will thank you.
