| Dec. 2nd, 2007 @ 08:28 am (no subject) |
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Spent some time in Portland this weekend, with my friends kenscholes and jens_fire. Ken's mom passed Thursday night.
Grief is a hard thing. Most of us spend our entire lives avoiding it at all costs.
I worked off-and-on for a funeral home and I've spent many, many hours at funerals. I find grief to be beautiful and painful.
The way we impact one another in our daily lives is often misunderstood or taken for granted. A kind word here, a smile there. Phone calls, letters, emails, chatting over coffee... these are all moments of connection in our lives.
We learn the subtleties of this as we grow, but we rarely are faced with those same situations when someone has experienced loss. Loss is too painful. Whether it is losing a job, a loved-one, or a broken relationship.
We don't deal with pain well. We tend toward embarrassment when faced with someone who is deeply hurt and radiating pain.
I've watched people from all walks of life, old and young, rich and poor, simple country folk and sophisticated socialites in this situation and when it comes to dealing with grief, I find we all stumble in the same areas.
You can't make it better. That is the first thing some folks need to know. The person who is hurting will work through their pain in the time and effort they expend. You can offer succor, comfort, a shoulder to cry on, a kind face, an ear to listen.
I've spent many an hour listening to the stories told by those in pain, handing out tissues and adding the odd comforting word. That, in my experience, is the key to grieving. Being present.
This weekend, we were joined by some of the most wonderful folks I know. jaylake and his daughter, newroticgirl and biomekanic had breakfast with us Saturday morning. It was community. People who love one another spending time together.
Ken is going to be just fine. He's a resilient individual with a wonderful wife. That alone will see him through this time.
Add the close friends who can sit and talk, share the same space and just be with one another. That will cover the rest.
And the online support cannot be ignored. I know that reading a kind word here from friends far away has power. Virtual communities will never replace the face-to-face in my book, but it comes pretty close in some instances.
So, grief. That's a cup of pain we must all drink at various times in our lives. Nothing and no one will take away that fact. Some will ignore the cup -- pretend it doesn't exist, and they will take little sips for years to come. That's okay.
Some will risk the grief storms and drink the cup down as fast as possible, hoping to take the bad medicine and move on with their lives. But the cup always seems to have a bit more at the bottom.
In reality the pain will lessen with time, and the bad things will fade. If we are lucky, we will be left with the joy and the wonderful moments.
And our friends, of course. |