
When I was a child, I often lost things. If it were something I cared about, I wouldn’t stop looking until I found it. Back then, loss felt temporary. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I realized some losses are permanent. Like the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or the loss of a job. These are people and opportunities we can never get back. What happens when we can’t recover what we lost? We experience grief.
The Weight of Grief
The grief that comes with loss is palpable. It brings us to our knees and sometimes introduces us to parts of ourselves that we never knew existed. We discover a strength that only grief can teach us. We discover the depth of love that causes us to feel intense emotions. Anger becomes loud while sadness settles in the background. We find a new way of living that is purposeful and honorable. We develop an appreciation for what we have. More importantly, we learn how to live with grief.
Stages of Grief
Grief is painful and an inevitable part of life. It is often followed by these five stages: anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. At the beginning of a loss, some may feel disbelief, while others may immediately react with anger. Everyone grieves differently, and it is important that we give ourselves grace at every stage. The final stage is acceptance, and it doesn’t mean the absence of sadness. We still feel sadness, but we accept this emotion. Grief isn’t something we need to change; it is something we can learn to accept.
An Invitation to Reflect on Grief
As someone who has dealt with grief in many forms, I wanted to create space for this conversation. While it may be heavy, I hope that this post makes grief a little lighter for you. I invite you to reflect on the following questions as you navigate through grief.
What would you want your loved ones to see if they were looking down on you?
What unexpected strengths or abilities have you uncovered while going through grief?
What new opportunities or possibilities might be emerging from this ending?
How do you hold space for pain and joy simultaneously in your healing process?
When you look back on this chapter years from now, what do you hope you’ll have learned or become?