Past, Present, or Future? The Answer? YES.

The last several weeks I have had several heart-felt conversations with others.  Some have been with close friends, other conversations with family members, yet other conversations have been with people whom I’ve never met in person.  These specific conversations that I’m speaking of have revolved around the common theme of grief.  How to live with grief. How to keep going on. What to do next.

Tragedy, loss, devastation … these are not events that can be compared.  People say things that make me think they are tempted to compare our tragedies.  “I just can’t imagine”.  “I didn’t lose my daughter, but I did lose _______”.  Maybe they aren’t trying to live with the loss of their firstborn, but they are living with the loss of a parent (or parents).  Maybe their child was not critically ill for 10 ½ weeks, but died suddenly in an accident.  Possibly, they are not processing the death of a loved one, but a devastating prognosis which indicates a possible “death” of life-as-we-know-it.  No, I do not believe that tragedies can be compared.

Tragedy, loss, and devastation are all “individual” experiences.  My “experience” is very different than my husband’s and equally different than my youngest daughter’s …  even though, the “who” we lost is the same.  Our experience with Savannah is our own unique and beautiful creation because SHE is a unique and beautiful creation that touched our lives.  Your experience with your loved one is solely YOURS.  Because, like Savannah, THEY are a unique and beautiful creation.

No, tragedies cannot be compared.  But the pain … yes, I believe the pain is something that is consistent, no matter what the circumstances. The pain is so deep that it seems to have no boundaries.  No depth … just keeps getting deeper. No width … just can’t seem to see an end.  It just IS.

Cognitively, I can understand the stages of grief.  I can read countless books and listen to “experts”.  The information is good; however, sometimes (in my opinion) irrelevant.  It becomes irrelevant when the grief has overtaken you and you simply must live in it for a while. It is difficult, if not impossible, to cognitively process when grief has overtaken you.  I do believe we need to educate ourselves about the psychology of grief; however, we cannot expect to outsmart grief.

The “Grief Monster”, as so eloquently described to me by a very wise man sharing a friend’s experience with devastating loss and grief, will show up and relentlessly chase you.  He comes out of nowhere, when you least expect it. He keeps chasing after you relentlessly.  Until, finally, he catches you.  This gentleman found the longer he ran from the monster, the longer it would take for the monster to leave.  This gentleman realized in the depths of his despair that he needed to respond to the monster differently.  He found that if he would stop running and simply turn around and embrace the monster, yes, the monster would catch him.  But, the monster would not stay as long. So, he learned to embrace the monster and, for that short period of time, be engulfed by the monster. Then, when the time is right … the monster leaves and life begins again.

My experience with grief feels more like a “Grief Fog”.  This fog looks very much like the fog that blanketed our house this morning.  You open the door, it’s there.  You look out the window, there he is.  When you look at the porch light, you see its essence.  You can’t run nor hide from it.  When the “Grief Fog” visits me, I can’t see much beyond myself.  I can’t think straight. I have a hard time allowing anything or anybody into my world … except my poodle (and that other dog … OK, honestly, she is making her mark on me, I’m loving her, too).  The Fog can overtake me.  If I try to “do” something, I make errors, drop things, get lost in my thoughts, or maybe don’t have any thoughts at all.  I remember sights, smells, sounds, feelings of yesterday.  Sadness overtakes me.   I took this wise man’s experience to heart and decided that, when the Grief Fog visits, I would succumb, and only for a period of time.  Once I succumb, I have always known when it was time to leave the fog.  And, when I make that decision, I do just that.  I leave the fog and it doesn’t chase me.  The fog visits less frequently and doesn’t stay as long.

I do not mean to be depressing or macabre.  I simply want to call to light that grief is individual.  It is solely ours.  It is real.  The pain is the same, jet the experience is unique.  When you say, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” … you are quite correct.  You don’t know.

Do not think for a single moment that when I suggest to “embrace the monster” or “succumb to the fog” that I mean to give up and stop living.  ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!  We do not have a choice in that.  We have to live.  People say, “I just don’t know how you do it”.  Quite simply, I don’t have a choice.  I am in this situation through no fault. It simply is what it is. What I do mean is that there are times when you are allowed, almost MADE, to remember your loved one (this is when the monster or fog comes visiting).  I’m choosing to think about grief differently.  These are times that I allow Savannah to be close to me.  Yes, it’s devastating and painful that she’s no longer here.  That’s undeniable. But, Tim, Savannah, Isabella, and I have lived our lives such that we know we love each other unconditionally.  Tim and I have spent time with our kids as they were growing up and with each other through our marriage so that our experiences are rich and memorable. Of course, we were not perfect!  Of course, we have a void that is undeniable (I can’t emphasize that enough). Absolutely, it is hard to live with that void.  But, we do.

I want to encourage you. Whenever you find either you or your loved one running from the monster or enveloped by the fog … try to not try so hard.  Give yourself (or them) a break.  You are living with the unimaginable. The last thing needed is more pressure to do something or act a certain way.  Just let yourself (or them) embrace the monster or sit in the fog.  Look at pictures, remember the good times, think of eternal things, and hold the loved one close.

When you’re ready, three things come to my mind.  RELINQUISH.  NO PRESSURE.  JUST BE.  When you get tired of being in it, when the time is right … then, focus on things eternal.  I remind myself (because I know) of where Savannah is now.  I ask myself questions like, “What is she experiencing now in Heaven?”.  I let my imagination run wild.  I remind myself that she will NEVER experience devastation, loss, sadness, anxiety, fear, shame … EVER!  I remind myself of the difference she made in my life and all those whom she touched.  I bask in the blessing of my relationship with my husband and two amazing human beings God gave us for a little while.  These are the things that release the monster’s grip on me and/or lift the grief fog.

Savannah is very much in my past, present, AND future.  I refuse to think of Savannah solely in my past. I correct myself when I say “she was _____”.  I say, “she is ____”.  I’m able to do this because, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that while she was on Earth, she KNEW God and had a relationship with Jesus Christ and lived a life led by the Spirit.  This, my friends, is why Savannah lives in my future.  I remember the past, keep her in my present, and look forward to enjoying Eternity with her.  This is what helps me release the hold of the monster and lift the fog of grief. Tomorrow will mark one year since Savannah moved into her Eternity.  Although I don’t know what tomorrow (literally and figuratively) holds for me, I know that I have had a wonderful past, a rich present, and an unbelievably, amazing future ahead.  So, let November 4^th come. (If you don’t know where you or your people will spend Eternity, go figure that out! Talk to people who do.  This is how I am able to keep on, keepin’ on.)

So, you may wonder is Savannah in my past? My present? My Future?  The answer to all of the questions is an emphatic … YES!!!!

Please enjoy this picture of Savannah, simply being Savannah. Sweetness personified.

Remember the past, live in the present, look forward to the future and THRIVE!!!

Much love, Stephanie