The Aftershocks of Grief

This morning as I listened to National Public Radio, I was dismayed to hear of yet another earthquake aftershock in Japan that registered 6.6. A month has passed since the initial quake and tsunami and just when they might be thinking things are settling down, along comes another aftershock and the terror fills them again as it did when it first happened. The image of the ground shaking beneath them and then settling down and then shaking again reminds me a great deal of how it is with grief.
Our culture has unwisely over the years perpetrated the myth that grief is something you feel for a limited amount of time and then you move on with your life. Widows and widowers will tell you how often people ask them several months after their partner of 50 years has died whether or not they are over it yet. The loss of someone or something we love to death or divorce or forced separation is not something that goes away. Instead, it’s a bit like an earthquake, or the waves of the ocean. There are times when very little is happening and we can barely feel it or sense it. There are other times when the ground shakes so hard we almost fall down or when the waves come crashing and we can barely catch our breath. We don’t usually know when or where the quake or wave will occur, but we know at some point we’ll feel it again. The best thing we can do for ourselves and for our grief is to let it come and to hang on to the hope that eventually the aftershocks will lessen in force and they won’t come as often.
One of the gifts we receive from being in community is that we don’t have to weather our grief storms alone. Let someone know when the ground is shaking beneath you or the wave has drenched you. Sometimes an arm around the shoulder or a reassuring word or a silent companionable presence is all you need. If you are not part of a community where you can do that, you are welcome to come and join ours. We care about each other and we care about you, whatever your journey.