Grief is something I never asked for
Wow. Overwhelmed. Excited. Scared. Nervous. If I were to sum up how I feel about launching this adventure, these are the words I would use. These past few years have been difficult ones for myself and my family. Where we are now is not where we thought we would be. However, if it weren’t for where we are now, I would still be sharing my thoughts on social media. And we all know those are not exactly the healthiest of places exist in.
If I’m going to be honest, I’m here because my husband won’t quit hounding me about putting myself and my work “out there.” For seven years he was a witness to me teaching a loss and grief class at the university where we both worked. When I started there, I inherited the class from Boyd, a retired pastor who was ready to step away from teaching. And he entrusted this class to me.
To say that I was nervous is an understatement. How was I possibly qualified to teach such a course? By mid-terms, I knew the class was mine. And at the end of the semester, I knew exactly what I needed to do differently the next fall. (Can we just acknowledge that having a mock funeral as the final was not my finest moment?) I’m sure I will share more about these years as we go along. For now, let’s just say that when I left the university, I couldn’t imagine my life where loss and grief conversations are not part of it.
Want me to be honest? Over the years, as I researched and read in preparation for class discussions, I was never just talking to my students. I was working toward healing myself. As I assembled lessons and PowerPoints, I realized we have it all wrong in our society. We wait to talk about grief until someone dies. And let’s be real, half the time we don’t really talk about it then.
As I spent time with Elizabeth Kübler-Ross and the 5 stages of grief, I was struck by how much grief isn’t just about physical death. It’s about all of the losses and transitions we go through in our lives. (Ok, ok, we all know the stages idea is outdated. But can we at least acknowledge that she wasn’t wrong about the rollercoaster grief puts us on?) So many times I sat at our kitchen bar and wept as I read words I needed to hear. Words I wish had been spoken over a younger me when my mom died, I moved away from home for the first time, my husband and I had a miscarriage, and so many other losses. I wept knowing it was now my task to walk with others and help make their way a little less painful.
So, here I am. I don’t know where this adventure is going to take us. Maybe our paths will cross in person over coffee. Maybe you will be encouraged with something I share as you enjoy a cup of coffee with this blog. However we journey these days together, whatever life is throwing at us, may we all believe that none of us have to walk these days alone.
Peace,
Denise
