Grief Whiplash

This Memorial weekend has been a whirlwind of emotions that were unexpected. I’d wake up and go to sleep sad, with moments of peace and joy in between. The whiplash between these feelings left me feeling unsettled. When I spoke to my counselor today, she said it was natural as our country remembered the men and women who died for our country to also remember those who have died in our life. I’ve also been reminded by Litsa Williams, MA, LCSW-C, from What’s Your Grief, that “Grief is the process of healing that helps us move forward.”

I’ve become good at doing spur-of-the-moment things that bring joy, bringing my camera to capture these moments. On Saturday, I went to the Phoenix Art Museum. Although I bought a membership in January, this was my first visit. Indoor activities are reserved for the heat of the summer months. There were some beautiful exhibitions of sculpture, paintings, and fashion. It’s also fun people-watching.

On Monday, I once again woke up tearful and knew I needed to get out of the house. After a quick breakfast, I headed to the Desert Botanical Garden, about a forty-minute drive but well worth it. It was a perfect day to meander through the garden trails. There was a soft wind that made the heat bearable. As I walked, I enjoyed the bird songs, though bird sightings were more elusive as they tend to stay in the cool shade of the trees or nest in cacti. The garden is ever-changing, with flowers in a constant state of bloom and decay. Photography also helps me to be present in the moment and to see things I might miss. I stopped at Archer House and relaxed on the porch near the remembrance plaques I donated for my husband, mom, and dad. It’s nice to have a special place where I can be with them and find serenity.

The other grief I experience is the loss of relationships with people who are still alive but not in my life right now. It can happen after a death or because of other issues. Our society has difficulty recognizing death-related grief, but an ambiguous loss is even less recognized and understood. It’s only when you find someone else who is experiencing it that you can talk freely.

I have learned over the years, especially starting with my husband’s death eleven years ago, that it’s up to me to take charge of my life and not run it based on other people’s expectations. I find things that bring me joy and participate in them, whether with someone else or on my own. I cry when I need to without justifying myself to others. Allowing people to help me when I can’t do something has been a significant change, but a good one. It has taught me that I don’t have to do everything alone. Being in groups with other grieving people has helped me know I’m not alone. This is a journey we’ll all have to travel one day.