Grit in Grief…holding on in the flood.
Grabbing on to Grit when grief threatens to pull you under. What does GRIT look like in deep grief? Well, I think it looks like whatever gets you to the other side of those tumultuous feelings that take over our minds and hearts. This past week has been one of those weeks for me, filled with many large and small grief bursts. First, our incredible neighborhood presented the Greg Miller Scholarship to the sweetest young lady, Gianna. I love so much about this scholarship and the young, energetic and goal oriented people who have won it over the years. This year, I particularly love the fact that Gianna’s name starts with “G” (may sound pathetic to you, but suddenly was a beautiful connection to Greg for me) and that Gianna is going into nursing, as the nurses throughout his illness played such a crucial role in his care. AND it’s so bittersweet that there even has to be a scholarship for a man who had so much life in him while he was here on earth. He should be here, yes. The BOTH AND of grief and grit.
Greg’s family and friends gathered on Saturday for a golf outing and a dinner at Mooney’s to remember and celebrate Greg. Yes, it is absolutely a beautiful and fun way to meet up and reconnect with much of what and who Greg loved in life. AND it is emotionally and physically exhausting. The “Both And” of so much in grief. The beautiful memories AND the resurfacing of the gut wrenching loss that lays always so close to the surface. Greg was everywhere in that space. Utterly beautiful. His life mattered and his love still permeates. My heart is full. AND my heart hurts with the “what is no longer” and the fact that he should be here.
Our church on Sunday celebrated and said farewell to the lead Pastor who walked along with my family in Greg’s death and then my father’s death. He was a quiet and trusted guide on the journey. I will never forget how comforting that was and I am forever grateful that he was there with us and for us. Grateful, yes, AND very bittersweet. It was like letting another piece of both Greg and my Dad go. And such is life, the BOTH AND.
We hosted Greg’s family from out of town and in town that Sunday night as well. Grief makes relationships sticky and complicated. We all grief Greg differently and that is ok, kind of one of the beauties in life. Each of our relationships to Greg was unique and holds a special place in each of our hearts. I loved sharing old family stories over dessert that night, reminiscing, laughing and putting pieces together for my kids. You see, Greg’s family is the connection to Greg’s past that I cannot completely fill in. These moments are so important, and yet filled with many emotions. Grateful AND complicated.
Our 31st wedding anniversary is tomorrow. My heart hurts with what we did not get to do together, all the beautiful and adventurous plans we had. AND I am truly so grateful for all we did get to do and all we got to be to and for each other in the thirty years we had (28 married, 30 together). Yes, he should be here.
His 65th birthday is July 1st. Oh how he LOVED to celebrate his birthday! He always said that since his birthday was the first of the month, he gets the whole month to celebrate, lol. Mind you that my birthday is July 7th, hmmm. He would joke and say that I could have an hour of his month to celebrate my birthday. Oh how I miss those jokes and that smile. AND I can’t wait to celebrate him and the memories we have. When we got married we consciously picked the date that was close to both of our birthdays with the idea that it would always be a big and wonderful time of celebration for us. Grateful AND hard in grief.
So, it’s been and continues to be a full and complicated week of grief bursts for sure. How do I choose to hold on to grit in the midst of these grief bursts? For me, it looks and sounds like leaning into the heartache, leaning into the tears, leaning into what my body is telling me is my truth at the moment. Please don’t get me wrong, it is not one bit easy to “just lean in”. Yet, I don’t know another way to do it. I cry if I need to cry. I call a friend who I know will sit with me and my grief without judgment. I write if I feel like writing is the release I need. I rest if my body is telling me I have had enough. For me, it is often the day before an event or an anniversary that is hardest. The anticipation gets me every time, regardless of how prepared I think I am. I will wake up the day before and wonder to myself, “why am I feeling so wiped out, so worn down, so tired, so emotional??” Duh, it finally dawns on me, “oh yeah, it’s the day before a big memory flush.” I have learned that I cannot fight the reality of the hard emotions and the beautiful memories. I lean in. I lean into what is and I lean into what was. The big feelings don’t last forever and I come to the other side of those tough and beautiful moments a bit clearer, a bit stronger, a bit more able to carry on. I carry on for Greg, yes. I carry on for my children, yes. Most of all, I carry on for my own sake. I know life is fragile. I have watched it fall apart too many times in the last several years. I want to be fully here to celebrate the “Both And’s” of it all. Leaning in is all I can do. I loved him yesterday, I love him today, and I will love him tomorrow. Grateful for it all.
If you or someone you know is struggling with loss and grief, please share this site with them as I truly believe we heal in connection and community. Or feel free to reach out to me at cathymiller@cathyemillerlifecoach.com
