I found a story about grief in a stack of papers today. I am not sure where it came from, but I found it very touching - and most importantly, true.
Grief is like a wound. At first, it’s open, bleeding, raw, and terribly painful. In time that wound begins to heal. It heals from the inside out. The pain begins to fade and eventually a scar is formed. There will always be a scar. We will never be the same.
Grief has physical sensations. Our heart is screaming; it physically hurts. There is a knot in our stomach and a sinking feeling happens when we think about our child or the future. When we think, we feel and when we feel, we hurt.
Healing the wound of grief is allowing ourselves to feel the pain, to recognize the loss of the dream, to cry, to experience the intensity of the moment and then to move on. We wipe our eyes, dust ourselves off and move forward into living the day. We know the pain will come again. It will be felt and experienced again. We will move forward again, and on and on.
There will come a time when we begin to think we're going crazy. "I must be losing my mind." "I was doing better at first than I am know." Not crazy, the numbness has worn off - healing can begin.
We can never understand. No one will ever have the answers to the questions of “why” or “what if”. No one will be able to make sense of the loss you feel. It is useless to try. What we CAN do is acknowledge the loss we feel and try to live each day as best we can. Let our act of living, feeling joy, allowing ourselves laughter, creating and dreaming new dreams. Grief is appropriate, but it must be allowed to heal. Our quality of life is found in our strength, our resilience and our ability to create a new and meaningful life, for ourselves and our family.