I was listening to a podcast about grief the other day. It really struck a cord with me. The podcast host was interviewing a psychotherapist about grief. She had been a therapist for 18 years and had led many people through the grief that they were feeling. Then, she lost her partner and everything she thought she knew about grief changed.
We have a flawed definition of grief. We live in a society that views grief as a bad thing. It’s a season that someone goes through when he/she loses a loved one. Grief is something that must be overcome. We are taught that we cannot grieve for long and that we have to pick up the pieces and move on.
But what if grief was always there? What if we allowed ourselves to grieve in every season of our lives? Grief looks different for everyone. There doesn’t have to be a death in order for you to grieve. According to Psychology Today, “grief is the acute pain that accompanies loss.” Loss means different things for different people.
When Jordyn was diagnosed, I thought I had to be strong. I couldn’t grieve because I immediately wanted to take action. I didn’t stop to think of the things that we had lost because of this new diagnosis. It’s been almost 6 years since that day, and I’m finally working through the grief that I feel so often. I feel the pain of the loss of the perfect child I thought I’d have. I feel the pain of seeing my daughter struggle to do things that I take for granted. Though I am so grateful that she is here with us, it doesn’t take away the pain I feel every time someone asks what’s wrong with her. It doesn’t take away the pain I feel when she is left out of activities because they aren’t handicap accessible or the or when she’s left out of fun things with peers because she can’t keep up with them. It breaks my heart that they only see her disability instead of taking the time to really get to know her and how amazing she truly is.
It’s hard for people to understand this kind of grief because most people are able to pick up the pieces and move on. This is our every day life. I struggle to move on because we see the struggles every single day. Things only get harder, not easier, as Jordyn gets older. It’s a constant reminder that this world was made for able bodied people and the grief continues to resurface.
We have so much love and support in our lives and I would not be where I am today without it. There is a huge tribe praying for our girl and we are so grateful, but I know it’s difficult for people to approach us because they don’t know what to say. All I want is for parents to come up to us with their kids and ask about Jordyn. I want them to introduce themselves, to learn about her and our family. Sometimes, all that’s needed is an acknowledgement that this sucks and this is hard. If you don’t know what to say to help, you can always offer choices of things you are able to do. When people ask how they can help, I never know what to say. I’m so busy meeting Jordyn’s needs and scheduling appointments that I have no more room to think about what it is that we need in that very moment. Sometimes it’s nice for someone to just offer to do something specific or give options of ways they can help: phone calls to vent, babysit so we can go out, offer to bring food or pray for our family, etc.
Most of all, just acknowledge the grief and validate those feelings even if you don’t understand them. Not everything can be fixed and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Comments