What I wish I’d Known Before I Experienced Grief
The first time you lose someone you love is certainly one of the hardest moments in your life. This happened to me just a bit more than a year ago. It was not the first time someone in my family passed away, but it was the first time I was old enough to realize it plainly and that the person in question was sufficiently close to affect me profoundly.
This was an extremely difficult experience, but thinking about it now, there are a few things I would have wanted to know beforehand.
First, it is obviously the violence of the instant. Someone you’re used to seeing every week just disappearing overnight breaks you apart. Of course, sometimes you know it is going to happen in a near future, if the loved one has an incurable illness or is very old, but you are still not even closely prepared the day it happens. You know how it is because you met people who already lived this before you, friends or family, but you never actually realise you could also face loss until it cruelly catches you by surprise without letting you time to breath.
Then comes grief, and I wish I knew at the time that everyone have the right to mourn in their own way without remorse. Indeed, everywhere around me, people cried, a lot. I never cried much while I was a child, even when I was really sad. I remember that I sometimes used to force myself to cry, in order to show others and make them understand how bad I was feeling. However, it never felt very natural. Of course, I cried the day it happened, and I cried some other days as time passed by, but to a much lesser extent than most of my family, just a few tears running down my eyes. This made me feel guilty, I thought it was because I wasn’t sad enough, I was supposed to feel more emotions. I was angry at myself. I was furious I couldn’t burst into tears like others were.
The next feeling of guilt came afterwards. Every time someone mentioned the deceased, I could see my sister’s eyes sparkling, with small drops in their corner. Mines didn’t, I didn’t feel my stomach squeeze, or felt particularly mournful. And the same happened whenever we were visiting the grave. I also tended to go much less often than my sister or my parents did. Every time I heard my sister went there, I blamed myself for not thinking of going on my own.
And one day, I stopped reproaching my behaviour because I finally understood that my actions weren’t to blame. Not crying much, doesn’t mean you’re not sad and you don’t miss the person you just lost. I didn’t go to the grave often because I didn’t like the melancholic atmosphere. I’d rather like remembering the happy moments I lived with this person, and I’d smile because these were good memories. I now know I’m not the kind of person mourning the dead because their absence is unbearable, but I prefer thinking about all the good times we got together and cherishing these moments every time their name is mentioned.
Looking back at this experience now, I realise I had lived my own way of grieving. Everyone cope with a hard situation in their own way. Grieving is a period of acceptance, in which you have to let your true nature express itself, and you can’t let yourself be affected by the behaviours of others. I do not associate grieving with sadness anymore, I believe sadness is just a step in the process, so is the nostalgic joy of memories, and I am happy now to feel the latter. No more guilt.
