The Uncharted Journey
No one wishes to embark on the journey of grief. It’s a path we are forced to take when life takes an unexpected and devastating turn, and the world we know shatters into countless fragments.
We are left to navigate a maze of emotions, memories, and pain, trying to return to normalcy. It’s a journey that is different for everyone, but one thing is sure: it changes us forever. Life altered with the loss of my oldest son, Stefan.
The night Stefan left this world, it felt like a surreal nightmare. The world outside was oblivious to my pain, going about its business as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed, and I was left in the wake of an emotional tsunami.
Seeking a Manual in a World of Chaos
In the months following my son’s passing, I searched desperately for books, a lifeline, a guidebook, or even a secret map that could help me navigate this uncharted territory of grief. I scoured the internet for articles and self-help books, hoping to find the answers to my burning questions. But what I found were well-meaning cliches and empty platitudes that did little to soothe my aching heart.
I wanted something real that resonated with the raw, messy, and complex emotions I was experiencing. I wanted to know that it was okay to feel lost and angry, to cry uncontrollably, and to laugh through tears.
As I delved deeper into my quest for answers, I stumbled upon a truth that would change the course of my grief journey: there is no manual for grief. There are no step-by-step instructions, no one-size-fits-all solutions, and no checklist to mark off as you progress through your grief.
Grief, I discovered, is as unique as the person experiencing it. It’s a personal journey, a solitary walk through the labyrinth of emotions. It doesn’t come with a timeline or an expiration date. It doesn’t adhere to society’s expectations of how we should grieve or for how long.
Embracing the Messiness
Instead of trying to fit my grief into a neat box, I embraced the messiness of it all. I allowed myself to feel whatever emotions bubbled up, no matter how uncomfortable or irrational they seemed. I cried when I needed to, screamed into a pillow when the anger overwhelmed me, and laughed through the tears when a cherished memory brought a smile to my face.
Grief, I realized, is not a linear process. It’s more like a rollercoaster with unpredictable twists and turns. One moment, you may feel like you’re making progress, and the next, you’re plunged back into the depths of sorrow. And that’s okay. It’s all part of the journey.
One of the biggest myths I encountered on my grief journey was the idea of closure. Society often tells us that we must find closure to move on and heal. But what I’ve come to understand is that closure is a myth. It’s an elusive concept that doesn’t exist in the world of grief.
Grief isn’t something you neatly close the door on and walk away from. It’s something you carry, like a scar on your heart. It becomes a part of who you are, shaping your perspective and altering your priorities. It’s not about finding closure; it’s about finding a way to live with the grief, to integrate it into your life in a way that allows you to move forward while honouring the love and memories you hold dear.
Unspoken Grief
One aspect of grief that isn’t often discussed is the unspoken grief that hides in the shadows, lurking in the corners of our hearts. It’s the grief we don’t share with others, the pain we keep to ourselves, and the questions we’re afraid to ask.
I remember nights when I would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I was the only one who felt this way. I wondered if it was normal to have moments of intense sadness or to feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for not doing more, for not saying the words I wished I had spoken to Stefan.
I later learned that I wasn’t alone in these feelings.
Grief is a complex tapestry of emotions, and the unspoken grief is a part of it. It’s the guilt, the regrets, the what-ifs, and the longing that we carry silently within us. And it’s okay to acknowledge and explore these feelings, even if they’re uncomfortable.
Another misconception society has about grief is that it will eventually end. The pain would fade with time, and everyone would return to normalcy.
But what I’ve come to understand is that grief is not a destination; it’s a lifelong companion.
Grief changes over time. It evolves from a torrential storm into a gentle rain. The pain becomes more bearable, and the moments of joy become more frequent. But it never truly goes away. It’s always there, just beneath the surface, ready to resurface when you least expect it.
If you find yourself amid grief, feeling lost, alone, scared, confused, and uncertain, remember this: you’re not alone. Your journey is unique, and there’s no right or wrong way to grieve.
Maria Belanic is a Certified Grief Educator offering grief support