For Lynn, who showed me that the key to unlocking the magic doors has been in my possession all along...
I grew up in an Asian family, so I didn't know what emotions were until well into my thirties. Just kidding.
Sort of.
When I was a kid I wasn't really exposed to people's feelings. Everyone was always "happy" and everything was always "fine." If you were upset, you left and when you came back it was like nothing happened. No discussion, no nothing. I believe at least part of this is cultural, and while I didn't know any better for most of my life, now I see how not being given the space or encouragement to express or feel various emotions is detrimental to mental, emotional, and psychological development.
#Chile crossed over the rainbow bridge on December 26, 2018, and this was my first major loss after I began what we'll call my 'psychological awakening.' (I want to laugh after typing that, but I can't think of a more applicable term!) A few weeks after it happened, I was on the phone with #Michelle and I was explaining to her that I thought I had been doing so well with my coping and that I was getting over it, but that the last few days had been terrible and I was regressing and crying more than the previous few weeks. She was confused at what I meant by "getting over it" and she said that that might never happen. She also told me that I should be crying for Chile because we loved each other and that he deserved my tears. Her words jolted me. I had never thought of anything like that previously but it made so much sense, and I feel like she gave me the permission I thought I needed to feel bad. I don't think I'd ever had that before and it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Wow.
Then, last summer I had another "ah-ha" moment while having a conversation with #Galvani. I was wallowing in whatever the current misery was at the time and I admitted that what made things worse when I was upset about something was that I would get upset about being upset - which made me doubly upset. His reaction was about what you'd expect from someone who just heard something irrational, illogical and unreasonable. He told me I needed to stop doing that because you can't be happy all of the time. I'm embarrassed to admit that I needed someone to tell me something that sounded a lot like common sense. But he's absolutely right: one cannot possibly be happy all of the time, so the expectation is a setup for failure. Yikes.
Today is the one year anniversary of the day my #dad passed away. I can't believe it either, but as I look around, there is very little in my life that resembles 365 days ago. In retrospect I feel like all of these lessons happened in a very necessary sequence. Since Chile passed away I've really become quite the crier. I never was before, but I am now, and would you believe I am almost through my THIRD package of Costco Kleenex boxes in a year?!? Think about that for a second - I live by myself and there are TWELVE boxes in each package!!! I will admit I have somewhat regular sinus issues, but still...THREE PACKAGES. I mean, what???
In all seriousness, what I can tell you I've learned about #grief is that the sneaky son-of-a-bitch creeps up on you and punches you square in the face when you least expect it. Like in Cabo during #Laura's father/daughter dance and I started hiccup-sobbing like my life depended on it. (Shoutout to #Roshell for getting me through that one.) Or the night I found out #Stephanie's dad passed away (which was the same week #Marco's dad passed away) and used almost an entire box of tissues because it just sent me back to that night last October. Honestly, these are, now that I think about it, kind of big triggers, but sometimes I'm just driving my car, or taking out the trash, doing the laundry, talking to someone on the phone, or watching the Stanley Cup being awarded. One little thought here or there and Niagara Falls ain't got nothin' on me. Sometimes it's not even something sad that makes me cry, and sometimes it's a story I made up in my head! I just cry so easily at everything now, and I guess you could say I'm making up for all those years of repressed emotion.
I remember when I told #Lynn about my sudden waterworks issue. She said "that's great!" It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, and I looked at her like she had two heads. She went on to explain that crying is an extremely healthy release of emotions and that people normally feel better after, so just go for it! Hmmm...so many new concepts to grasp here.
I stumbled upon this quote one day; I don't know who said it, but it has really helped me understand this process: "Grief never ends, but it changes. It is a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith: it is the price of love."
"Grief is the price of love" - such powerful words. This somehow validated that all the pain and suffering is for something worthwhile. When we choose love, we must, by default, also choose grief. There is no way to avoid negative feelings and emotions; if we don't process them productively they will always find a way to rear their ugly heads. I understand now how easy it is for kids, and even adults, to cut themselves off from their feelings in order to feel safe, and I think I'm realizing that to a large extent, I've been guilty of that for most of my life. But now, I allow myself to have sad moments, bad days, and even rough weeks, and rather than getting upset at myself for it, I have compassion for someone going through life - a human being who loves and misses her dog and her dad. And you know what? The bad time always passes. It might pass like a freaking kidney stone, but it passes.
I think if I had to explain grief or any other negative complex emotion, I'd say it's like dirt. Nobody really wants dirt by itself, but dirt is a part of life. If you don't want it spread out all over your floors or counters (and who does, because what a mess), you are more than welcome to keep it in a jar high up on a shelf where nobody else can reach it. The key is to take the jar off the shelf regularly to tend to the dirt: mix it up, scoop it out, play with it between your fingers. Sure, it might get messy at times, but it's dirt, what do you expect? Then when you are done, you can put it back in the jar and up on the shelf. Sometimes the jar gets jolted, like something bumps it or you live in California like I do, and there are earthquakes. The jar may fall off the shelf and it's possible the jar breaks when you don't expect to have to deal with the dirt. But when it does, you do. Eventually, I like to think you get smarter with experience and move the jar to a little spot on the floor where it can't fall. Sure, in its new spot on the floor it's more easily accessible to your inquiring friends, curious kids and clumsy dog, but that's okay, they can learn to tend to the dirt too, and you can all tend to the dirt together. What happens, though, if you don't tend to the dirt, is that the air in the jar gets stale and the dirt begins to grow mold. Yuck. Mold is bad, and nobody wants mold. Mold can make you sick. But as long as you tend to the dirt regularly, you will find that from the dirt you are able to grow new life. Amazing.
There is one overwhelming part of the grieving process that is actually wonderful, and that is the outpouring of love, support and kindness from people when you are in the eye of the storm and you allow them in. I believe people do really want to help and want to be part of your healing, and I think it's good for everyone if you let them. An interesting thing that happened to me with Chile and then again with my dad is I became hypersensitive to all the people who opened their arms to take care of me when I needed it the most (like Laura and #Chloe who called and texted me every day for almost a month after my dad died), especially the people you don't expect it from. There is an unofficial list that is created in the background of your mind and will forever be etched on the deepest parts of your soul, and on some days it will be the last thing holding you up. (Like, say, when someone calls you to make sure you didn’t eat both the containers of Cherry Chocolate Chip ice cream from Trader Joe’s.) Where there is love, there is grief; and where there is grief, there is love.
This photo has been the lock screen on my phone for the past year. It's not the typical "pretty" lock screen I normally keep for a month or two and switch out. I've kept it, not only to honor my dad, but as a reminder of the little girl inside me - my inner child - who, like everyone else's inner child, needs to be reparented with love and compassion.
It's been important for me to remember to take things slowly - step by step and tissue by tissue. I am extremely fortunate to have an incredible support system and I have been learning to reach out for help when I need it and things become overwhelming. I think that as long as I keep these things in perspective, the heartache and the grief become much more easily manageable. And at the end of the day, when life goes on, there's nothing a good cry and some ice cream can't fix.
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love." -Washington Irving
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