When we grieve, we are no longer strangers. Suddenly, the world is painted in vibrant colors of anger or sadness. Maybe we sink into silence and shock, or maybe we throw our hands up in rage. Regardless of our response, we can now connect with those who know the stitches and roadmaps of grief. I’ve learned how beneficial it is to have someone concisely say, “I get it. I’m thinking of you.” So far, those have been the most accurate, comforting, and relatable words I’ve heard.
When we try to grasp onto a new routine, grief visits quite often with reminders of who we’ve lost, bringing along a complicated crowd of feelings and accompanying loudness. These are the moments hardest to explain when all you can really do is mentally hug yourself and try to breathe in deeply and exhale it away.
I’ve distanced myself from certain things while equally bringing myself closer to others in no particular order. The hardest part is not over because truthfully, every part comes with its own weight to process and bear. While trying to be gentle with myself, I’ve tried to learn I can’t cop out behaviorally and blame it on grieving. Those are two totally different entities.
Since my father’s passing, I’ve learned how many people are living with loss. I’ve heard the stories of people who have felt similarly or experienced this before me. I’ve learned how we all very much feel it necessary to hear the words, “I get it. I’m thinking of you,” and know the significance of someone meaning it.