Recently there were ads on the radio for a weekend seminar offered by the Sisters of Something or Other. It was called "Graceful Grieving". I held off on commenting because since Brian died I seem to be the Lady of Perpetual Anger, and I wanted to think about why this seminar upset me so much.
I think it is a huge disservice to try and instruct people to grieve gracefully. In fact, I think we need to do the opposite. Grief is raw, and messy, and anything but graceful. To grieve gracefully is to stifle your feelings for the comfort of others. Why should anybody do that?
Why should a mourner smile politely and hide the tears for private moments. Why should a mourner say "thank you" and offer a sweet if phony smile when someone says "he's in a better place", or "God had a plan", or "this will make you stronger"? Grief is hot, wet, and smelly. Grief is loud and grating. Grief is primal screams, and collapsing to the floor. It is forgetting to shower and brush teeth. Grief is tears, snot, vomit and diarrhea. Grief is private pain, but public spectacle.
How offensive that anyone would instruct anyone else on how to mourn gracefully?
When Brian was dying, I tried to shield him from my grief. I couldn't understand what it must have felt like for him to be dying, and I didn't want to burden him with my pain - a pain that he couldn't make go away. I'm sure I failed miserably. I cried when he slept. I left his room when I had to collapse to floor. I stifled my screams. I tried to shower, dress, and eat. I tried to show him that I would be okay. He knew that I wouldn't be ok for a long time.
Then he died, and nothing was ok. I showered and dressed in a suit and went to his memorial. I stood and received "guests" after the service. I sent thank you notes. I told people that I was "fine". I listened to everyone tell me that I was strong.
No.
I wasn't strong. I'm not strong. I continue to breath because that is what you do. Because you live, and you learn to live in agonizing pain. You learn to hide it until private moments, but it never goes away. It becomes easier to live with, but the pain and loss are always there. Every sad occasion that you can't share; every happy accomplishment that you don't celebrate; every holiday that you attend alone; everything new that happens in a world without them hurts - but we are expected to be graceful and grateful.
I am so grateful for the time I had with Brian, but I don't want to be graceful. I wish I could go back a few years and allow myself to fully experience the pain. I wish I could scream in public, tear my clothes, rant at God, curse at others' happiness. I wish I could be ugly, loud and offensive. I wish I could be honest with the force of my pain, because maybe then it wouldn't be so hard now. Maybe had I been allowed to be weak, ugly and selfish then, I wouldn't have to feel so alone in my pain now.
