Grief hits you after a dinner with a friend at 2am when someone tells you in a Facebook comment that you look like your mom which you used to hate but now you kinda see it. Grief is thinking about dedicating a park bench to your parents and thinking if it’s too selfish or too self centered to put a quote on it that’s tattooed on your body. Grief is wondering if it’s ok to say in the obituary that you are the best thing your parents ever did together even though they never stopped saying it. Grief is giving it all away like your loved ones did and not expecting anything back. Grief is remembering your mom crying after family phone calls. Grief is remembering the time you were a little girl and your dad called you funny and you never forgot about it. Grief is realizing you never caught on to how fast your aunt was aging.
Grief is realizing your parents had simply given all they could. Grief is your friend changing her flight even though you didn’t ask her to. Grief is another friend driving to your parents house to make sure you weren’t alone. Grief is going to social gatherings just to let people know you’re ok! Grief is your friends making schedules to come and see you. Grief is getting invites to places you probably wouldn’t go but people just wanted you there. Grief is your friend dropping off oranges and pretzels on your porch. Grief is your friends coming over to sit and listen to you ramble and gossip and pretend that your house isn’t a mess and they’ve probably never seen you this poorly dressed. Grief is knowing they don’t care how you look.
Grief is answering more phone calls. Grief is not answering the phone.
Grief is realizing those problems you had yesterday aren’t actually that big. Grief is overcoming conflict to support someone you love. Grief is feeling guilty for having a few moments of normalcy while there’s paperwork to be done. Grief is an only child. Grief needs attention. Grief is knowing you’re not actually alone, but yes, you are alone. Grief is knowing people are going to try to relate and it’s okay, but they’ll never share your exact experience.
Grief is longer hugs. Grief is reality TV and snacks with your friend in your living room. Grief is waking up to a clean kitchen even though you didn’t clean it. Grief is nice dinners with your oldest friend. Grief is remembering life is still happening even though there’s people missing from your life.
Grief is remembering to pay your gas bill before you write the obituary. Grief is realizing it’s okay you haven’t written the obituary. Grief is giving yourself permission to be a child even though you’re 30.
Grief is just accepting the help people are willing to give. Grief is knowing you’d lasso the moon for the people in your life if they wanted a close look of it.
Grief is clothes on your floor. Grief is getting overwhelmed. Grief is forgetting to put in your retainer. Grief is espresso martinis. Grief is sorting through apologies you’ll never get and figuring out what they would have said with your time in therapy or discussions with your friends. Grief is realizing that one week you’re giggling with your friends at the bar, taking your mom to the store, trying to convince your dad that he probably needs to call his doctors, and two weeks later having no parents.
Grief is people finally seeing you. Grief is not hiding what you have been carrying. Grief is putting it down and letting people pick it up. Grief is crawling in a hole to avoid your feelings, vulnerability, reality. Grief is having people follow you into the hole and put up drywall, hang up pictures, stock the fridge with watermelon slices and fancy pickles, bring out the blankets, turn on the guilty pleasure television shows, and having it all come together in a home that you invested in a long time ago.
Grief is realizing that when people depart the physical world, all of those physical things don’t matter. Grief is not riches. Grief is not property. Grief is not fancy jewelry.
Grief is the lessons the departed taught you. Grief is the lesson about being kind when you wanted to be selfish. Grief is the lesson about being resourceful. Grief is the lesson about making sure no one ever sits alone. Grief is the lesson about being an advocate. Grief is the lesson about listening and remembering. Grief is the lesson about everyone having good inside of them . Grief is the lesson about always being willing to learn. Grief is the lesson about learning to apologize. Grief is the lesson about never buying anything unless it’s on sale (your parents would kill you). Grief is a lesson.
Grief is a reminder that your greatest life’s work will be how you carry the weight of your loss. Grief is everything happening all at once.
The Nora Ephron of our time strikes again. Your superpower is vocalizing heartache in the most beautiful way possible dear friend. ‘Grief is remembering to pay your gas bill before you write the obituary.’ You deserve all the love and support. Your life will be beautiful and you will continue to spin your grief into art. You are meant for so much, I cherish your heart and I know your parents will be cheering for you always. ❤️