Seven Lessons I’m Learning on the Grief Journey

Last updated on: January 26, 2018 at 11:49 am by Carl "Skye" McColman

Seven Lessons I’m Learning on the Grief Journey 2018-01-26T11:49:56-04:00 Carl "Skye" McColman

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Six years ago today. Rhiannon’s 24th birthday, May 19, 2009 (photo by Mary Wright).

Today would have been my daughter Rhiannon’s 30th birthday. We’re calling it her “first birthday in heaven.”

If you haven’t been following the story, here it is in a nutshell: Rhiannon was born (5/19/1985) with polycystic kidney disease which led to other issues, including liver disease, an enlarged spleen, and paralysis following a stroke at age 3. Faced with a short life expectancy, in 2011 she began to experience falling blood counts that led to repeated hospitalizations as her caregivers attempted to stabilize her with multiple transfusions. Finally by early 2014 she had enough of that, chose to enter into in-home hospice, which led to her death last summer (8/30/2014). After a beautiful vigil and funeral, Fran and I began the long journey of re-making our lives.

Grief is a journey — a cliché, I know, but it’s true. They say don’t make any major decisions for at least a year. We’ve been trying to abide by that; Fran was approached about a promotion at work but it meant a lot more work and not much more pay, so she wisely turned it down; my longstanding daydream of relocating to Asheville NC has been on my mind a lot lately (a subconscious attempt to run away?), but we’ve decided it needs to wait until Fran retires. So we are hanging tight, focussing on the daily rhythms of life: work and recreation, family and friends, church and cats.

Speaking of cats, there’s an episode of The Big Bang Theory where Sheldon and Amy break up, and Sheldon, insisting that he’s fine, begins to adopt cats — lots of cats. Fortunately, Fran and I have not gone to Sheldonian extremes, but since Rhiannon died we have adopted three (two of whom were ferals we rescued, the third belonged to a close friend who died in January).

So it’s been almost nine months now. The journey continues. Since today is Rhiannon’s birthday, it seems an auspicious day to reflect on how this journey is progressing. I’ve learned — or perhaps I should say, I’m learning (it’s ongoing) a few things about grief. So here they are…

Let the feelings flow—grief really is an emotional kaleidoscope. The first month or so after Rhiannon’s death I was basically in a kind of shock — looking back, those weeks feel surreal. Of course I was crying a lot, but I was also filled with a sense of gratitude and remorse (for not being the perfect parent, duh). Fortunately, the thankfulness has lasted longer than the contrition! But over the months I’ve gone through sadness, aching sorrow, gratitude, anger, fear, nightmares, and also some good stuff, including hope and peace, along with the gratitude. Over time, the good emotions seem to be more present, the icky ones less so. Thanks be to God.
Thumbs and Pete, two of our three new cats. Photo by Carl McColman.

“Be Gentle With Yourself: Change Takes Time.” I saw that saying on a bereavement card many years ago, and it has stayed with me all these years, but only now am I really cashing in on its wisdom. When a month after Rhiannon’s death I wasn’t crying all the time, I foolishly thought I had made it over the hump and threw myself into my work. That lasted for about six weeks before I hit a wall, and had to step back from a few commitments. Which was humbling, but healthy. The takeaway: grief really does take time: not days and weeks, but months and seasons.
Take Care of the Basics. I’ve gained almost 15 pounds since Rhiannon died (mostly guacamole, although non-dairy ice cream hasn’t helped). An ongoing battle is simply making sure I exercise daily, eat right, and get to bed at a decent hour. It’s humbling to write this as a 50-something, but it’s a sober reminder that grief really can knock us off our game if we let it. I can see why making a major decision is a no-no during the first year: it takes a ton of energy just to stay focused on making the right self-care decisions, day after day.
Cherish relationships. Thank God, thank God, thank God we have a wonderful network of family and friends. Fran and I are both introverts, so we’ve been shying away from parties or social situations where we don’t know many people. But an intimate dinner with two to four close friends: that’s been catnip for us. Sometimes we laugh and talk about everything except Rhiannon. Other times we can only talk about Rhiannon. We have friends who understand, and let us roll with it. Our gratitude is immense.
Get help. Christmas was rough — it felt empty and really, really sad. So we turned to a grief counselor, and now I’m sorry we waited that long to do it. Our counselor isn’t magic; mostly she’s a kind listener and is gently affirming. But it’s given us a kind of framework for making choices that are healthy, nurturing, and loving. Both Fran and I feel happier and more at peace now than at this time four months ago. Perhaps some of that is just the coming of spring or the passage of time, but having someone help on this journey has been well worth the time and money we’ve invested into it.
Mark the Special Days in New Ways. Part of what tripped us up at Christmastime was we were trying to do it just like always, only without Rhiannon. And Rhiannon’s absence was everywhere. But then on Christmas morning, a friend of ours who was recently divorced showed up unannounced at our front door, and although she only stayed a half hour, it was a Godsend. By breaking up our rhythm, it brought a new perspective that helped to shake loose the logjam of loss we were feeling. So we’ve tried to make our holidays since then days with something special about them, often in a new way. For Fran’s birthday we went to the beach; Mother’s Day we toured the Biltmore (yay, Asheville) and for Rhiannon’s birthday — tonight — we’re hosting a pizza party here on earth to mirror the party Rhiannon is surely having in heaven. For Fran’s and my anniversary we’re taking a road trip to New England. Does this make these days automatically “happy”? Not hardly. But by mixing things up a little, we aren’t sitting ducks for sadness. And that, in itself, seems like a triumph.
Give yourself permission to hope and enjoy. This is a process, but it seems to be a beautiful one. Life is filled with unexpected joys and quiet pleasures, so simply showing up each day offers new opportunities for happiness and hope. Like I said above, the kaleidoscope seems to be tilting more and more toward the positive, and we are accepting that. The other day I found a Pinterest board for grieving parents and showed it to Fran; she found it hard to relate to the emotional tone of near-despair that characterized many of the pins. “Am I a bad mother for not feeling like that?” she asked me. “Of course not,” I reassured her. “You’re simply farther along on your grief journey; remember, six months ago we did feel that bad.” Grief is not something to judge; everyone’s journey is different, everyone’s rhythm is different. Even at the best of times, life has its ups and downs; but under the shadow of grieving those normal rhythms can feel huge, almost too much to bear. But — with self-care, good relationships, and help when you need it — even the darkest shadows can be safely navigated. And there’s light on the other side.

So that’s where we are today. It’s not perfect. We still cry. Not as much as six months ago, but some. For my part, my heart is still tender. Perhaps it will always be, at least on some level. That’s okay. It seems a small price to pay for the awesome privilege I had of being Rhiannon’s parent and friend. She taught me so much: about life, about love, about suffering, about dying. Someone once said “living well is the best revenge” but I think it’s also the best way to express gratitude, even in the face of grief. I can never repay Rhiannon for all that she’s given me, so I just try to live the best and happiest and most creative life I can, and I imagine her in heaven, cheering me on. And that keeps me going.

Enjoy reading this blog?
Click here to become a patron.

Previous Post

May 15, 2015

The Intelligent Person's Guide to Prayer

Next Post

May 20, 2015 The Last Instructions of Christ to His Disciples

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Activism Announcements Art Books Catholicism Celtic Christianity Christian mysticism Christianity Contemplation Current events Etc. Family humor interfaith dialogue Interfaith Wisdom Interspirituality Lay Cistercians Living the Faith Meditation movies Mysticism Mystics nature Poetry Reviews Scripture silence Spirituality Uncategorized Writing

Select a Month February 2025 January 2025 November 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 March 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 August 2023 June 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 October 2013 September 2013 July 2013 May 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 March 2012 December 2011 September 2011 October 2010 August 2010 March 2010 September 2009 July 2008 January 2008 December 2007 September 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2004

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

According to 1 John, what does perfect love do?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Covers a multitude of sins Fulfills all the law Never fails Drives out fear

Support this
Column