The Grief of What Once Was
“Is that Will?” I looked into the car window and saw someone who looked so familiar — the face of a man from my prior church back on the Coast. I knew I was just seeing stuff because I knew he definitely wasn’t in the Midwest but I wanted to believe that he was actually there. I shrugged off the idea and continued enjoying my beautiful walk on the random day of warm weather in Minnesota.
Many minutes later, I thought I saw someone else that I knew — someone else that I used to know many years ago back in the South. However, once again I knew that it couldn’t be possible because she hadn’t been in my life for so long and she had moved on in her life from what I last remembered. For some reason, on this beautiful day, all my mind wanted to do was to remember what was. In the midst of sunniness and my happier mood, my mind and body were still grieving what once was.
Later in the evening, I decided to put on some worship songs, but as I was listening to one of them, tears began to form because I remembered how my church on the Coast used to play one of the songs, so I decided to put on a Youtube Video of a song that Will sang in. I also pulled up my church’s Instagram page, but wept when I saw a pic of Will’s wife communing with others in their house — a place that had become a safe haven for me back on the Coast. I wept because I became more honest with myself that my grieving was not done. Although I have been in my new location for 10 months, I haven’t moved on. I’ve tried to, but my body and mind refuse to. It has made me wonder:
How do you move on when what once was had become your place of solace and your place of comfort — your true community?
I guess these are questions that I ask myself on a continual basis and if I were completely honest with myself, although I have moved many times before, my soul has felt the most dead living where I live now. I feel like I’m constantly in this out of body experience where I am not fully myself. It’s as if my old soul is gone but I am so desperately seeking to find me again unsure of where to go or if I will ever find her again. This grief — specifically the grief of what once was — has crushed me beyond measure and I keep attempting to get better — to not feel so bad and to be more positive, but it feels like this continual cloud that I can’t get out of no matter how hard I try.
There are some good moments like when I hang out with those that I love and enjoy in my new location, but those moments and days are few, so most of the weeks I sit alone in my grief — walking, wandering and lost. I’ll send a few depressing and raw text messages to friends of my struggles and although it has gotten better at moments, the cloud of grief remains.
I don’t share this because I care for people to pity me, but I share this because I wish there were more conversations about how moving produces feelings of grief, doubt and regrets. I hope my words comfort someone who feels as alone and lost as me. If you are grieving what once was — you are not alone, my friend. I can say that it does get slightly better, but I am not sure when or how that grief lifts one’s shoulders because anything can trigger the emotions.
A Song. A Word. A Face. These are all things that can re-emerge these uncontrollable emotions of sadness, so even when the sun is shining, if you hear or see anything that sounds or look familiar, these emotions can appear once again. Instead of suppressing these thoughts and emotions, embrace it. Embrace that grief and also surrender it to God. However, don’t feel guilty about feeling it. Know that it will take time to walk through it and that the feelings may re-emerge.
Yes, I am talking to myself right now because this grief has become my best friend and it’s time to not just embrace it, but surrender it. So as you embark on your next move to a town or if you have already arrived and still feel this banging feeling of grief, I want you to know this: You are not crazy. You are not alone. Embrace it. Surrender it. And boldly name what it is.
It’s the grief of what once was.
