The Gift of Grief

My mom died on March 8th, 2016. It was a long process, it was a known process. A death by inches and moments, not a shocking and unexpected loss. I remember in the weeks after my mom's departure feeling so sad, and tired, and guilty for my feelings of relief, and always a bit in slow motion. But I also remember feeling unfettered. Free to sit in the sad if I wanted. Free to take time to sit with my kids and not immediately fill each moment with a task or checking a box. Free to reach out to someone important just because and not worrying if they would find it weird or bothersome. Unexpectedly, it was a time where I felt the most grounded and present. When we are in crisis, or when we have experienced great loss, life perspective becomes laser focused. We immediately know and feel what is truly important. We know immediately who we want around and what we must expend our energy upon. It is a true moment or period of clarity. Expectations fade away. I found that I was my most authentic self and most like the person I hope to be when I was in that moment. I was more present and less distracted. I was unrestricted by what was expected of me and solely focused on what I wanted and needed. There was a time when I would have believed that was a recipe for selfishness or narcissism, but in fact I found it was when I was the most centered.

And ever since then, I have truly come to believe that grief is a gift. Yes, a gift. That seemed totally counter intuitive to everything I previously thought about grief. Our moments of crisis and despair are often things we desperately run from in hopes to stop feeling the emotions that threaten to overwhelm us, drown us. We seek out and yearn for the "normal" to return. We hope for the time when life begins again to feel unstuck and undefined by the grief. But what if the running and the search for a return to "normal" robs us of the gift which grief can present? Grief is a non linear, elusive, meandering current that weaves itself through life. Appearing bright and bold and all consuming in some moments. Then in other moments, lying on the periphery and just out of reach, having a subtly nuanced impact on our day. Grief can free us from expectations-no one expects you to act or to be a certain way. It's one of the few times that most people release their rigid rules on how someone "should" act and honor how the process differs from person to person. In retrospect, the time surrounding the loss of my mom provided the framework in which to pause. And yet, we run from this moment to try and get back to the normal. I have often wondered if there is an exact moment when grief begins to make way for normal again? Perhaps I should be more focused on making way for the grief to be present in my normal.

Three years later I’m not sure I really like what my “normal” has become. My days are back to being marked by the tasks completed and the boxes still needing to be checked. It feels frenetic and anxious and always moving forward. My ability to have complicated and messy thoughts is slipping out of my grasp. And then I catch myself in a moment where I forget she is gone. I will think, “Oh, I need to call Mom and tell her...”, and suddenly grief has come to visit me again. Not as startlingly painful as before, but softer and familiar. When those moments come, I am grateful for the reminder to stop and breathe and to honor what I have lost. I dive into the morass of my complicated and messy thoughts, and I give thanks for the gift of grief.

about the writer: jessica kidwell

Jessica Kidwell is a mother of two, a pre-school teacher, and the co-creator of the podcast “We Should Talk About That.” She has complicated and messy thoughts in Alexandria, VA. You can follow her on Instagram: @kidwelljessica and @weshouldtalkaboutthatpod