This post comes from a blog I wrote over a year ago:
Yesterday, I spoke with my friend yesterday who had lost her nephew only hours earlier. She repeated a comment her brother (the father of the young man who died) had made to her earlier that day. She said, “I’m having a strong moment right now.” Those words reflect the strange place in which we are suspended in the aftermath of a traumatic experience. We are living moment by moment and hour by hour. There seems to be a near “out of body” feeling of standing outside ourselves and observing that we are doing well. It seems out of body because we know that we should be in a puddle on the ground given the circumstances. Yet, somehow, during these early days, we find that we are held together or held up at times by a force beyond ourselves.
The reality is that in the first days of intense grief, we can swing from a strong moment to a total melt down within seconds. Suddenly, some new thought enters our minds like, “Oh my gosh, he won’t be there at Christmas!” or “I’ll never get to see him get married!” and we fall to pieces.
Varying emotions are to be expected. A numbness sets in that allows us to function on auto pilot for awhile, but even that numbness can only last so long. Each time the reality of what has happened hits us afresh, we might find ourselves gasping audibly then crying uncontrollably. This kind of thing might go on for months. Even now, as I stand 2 years and 2 months after the death of my son, Jacob, I still have moments that take my breath away because of the intensity of my inner response.
Anger is a very real part of the range of emotions that might be experienced. For some, anger is an early response, for others it might not come until later. That anger might be toward the one who died, especially if the death was the result of suicide, risky behavior or a failure to live a healthier lifestyle. When death is the result of someone else’s actions such as murder or drunk driving, the anger is naturally directed toward the perpetrator. Sometimes the anger is toward God or the universe for even allowing such a thing to occur.
To those around the grieving person, please refrain from judging the anger. It may seem irrational, but it is real, and the quicker it can be released, the better. Anger is poison to the soul. If it is forced to stay inside, it will only intensify and do more damage. Providing a safe place for someone to release their anger is helpful. Remember, it doesn’t have to make sense to you, so please don’t say to the one who is grieving, “You shouldn’t feel that way!” or “Stop talking like that!” Those responses will only make the anger worse. Anger that is released is more likely to be diffused.
The first morning after Jacob’s death, I remember being mad at the sun. How dare it come up and look so beautiful when my son was dead!! Don’t the darn birds know there is nothing to be singing about now that Jacob has died? Is that rational? No, but it was how I felt. Even in the first few minutes, I was angry at the officer who told us Jacob was dead and the nurse who said Jacob had been dead too long to donate his organs. There was also the need to deal with my anger toward God for even allowing such a thing to happen to my son.
Many times I cried out to God. I kicked and screamed and pounded on His chest by pounding on the bed. Every time I wrestled with God, the match would end peacefully. God would speak to my soul and comfort me. He would remind me of how much He loves Jacob – even MORE than I do. He would assure me that Jacob was right there with Him, forever safe, where there is no more suffering. I could sense Him wrap His arms around me and hold me, and my spirit was calm once more.
Our emotions are part of who we are, and we should respect them by giving them a safe place to be released. That might mean getting all alone and screaming at the top of our lungs. It might mean talking to a close friend who is not afraid to be there when we cry. Writing our thoughts down on paper might be helpful, even if it means writing so hard it tears the paper. In fact, that might be the most helpful way. Then, we might follow it up with tearing the paper to shreds. Maybe a good workout (think punching bag here) or a long walk or run would help.
To be most effective, each of these physical activities might need to be done in conjunction with an emotional release like crying or yelling. If we choose to combine the two, we need to be mindful of where we do this. We should avoid causing undo pain to the ones around us by directing our emotions at them, even if they were somewhat at fault. They are probably beating themselves up rather harshly as it is. Anger directed at people will only destroy relationships and create bitterness. Yes, we need to release the anger, but we also need to do that in safe ways for ourselves and the people around us.
*Now, 3 years and 4 months after Jacob’s death, my mind and body have “accepted” Jacob’s death to a greater depth. I’m not as shocked when the reality of his death hits me all over again. Now, it’s more like my mind says, “Oh, that’s right, he’s gone and I really miss him a lot.” A sadness comes over me, but it doesn’t send me to my knees. Time will never heal all aspects of Jacob’s death, but my emotions tend to be more stable three years after the loss.
Journey Of Grief ~ Journey Of Grace 