Compartmentalized Grief?
Woven into your DNA, you and your person are eternally connected. This deep, extraordinary kind of love swirls in and out through your very being. And yet, when we experience physical loss, we try to separate and compartmentalize our pain of loss. I have found, this is not possible long-term in how we may think or want for relief. Let me elaborate.
Photo by Edgar Chaparro on Unsplash
Early on, after Rich passed away, I learned it could help to set some time in the day for intentional grieving. This way, I could somewhat better function in my job and personal life responsibilities. In those first few months, this was essential. Suppose I didn't set time in the evenings to focus on and acknowledge the reality of what had happened? In that case, I'd never have been able to hold a single meeting or complete one project. It was overwhelming, and this is natural. It was an appropriate response. My mind and soul were far too confounded and in shock. It's too much to bear consistently for ongoing cycles of 24 hours. This helped assist me in releasing my pain in the form of tears, blank staring at movies, sobbing while watching movies, looking at photos, avoiding looking at photos, sitting in silence, listening to booming music, eating comfort food, eating food only for nutritional purposes, and feeling no joy in it, calling or texting loved ones, so many different things. I needed these moments more intentionally and frequently in the few but loooong months after Rich died.
As time continued and I'd practiced the grief compartmentalization, it all seemed to become a little lighter. I laughed a little more, focused while working, and felt more human again. I was able to be present in my world just a bit more. This technique helped me a great deal. I needed this compartmentalization method early on. I can see how it was an aid to help me function because the pain of loss was so debilitating. I was grief-congested. If I didn't have something to help me let it out, it would fester and become infected inside me. This resource was an incredible help for me.
As time continues, I realize I cannot actually compartmentalize Rich into a corner of my heart. I can hold him in all of who I am with greater tenderness.
Photo by Lawrence Macaron on Unsplash
He's forever woven into who I am. Inseparable. He's in my DNA. He is ever-present on my mind and in my thoughts. At times I've felt him around me, heard his thoughts toward me, and known his peace for me and my life. Even when I don't gather awareness of those expressions of him in my life, he's always present in my heart.
Now, I am just over two years removed from his passing and am feeling more stable. This morning I am comforted by the fact, he is a part of me forever. He is not someone who could ever be compartmentalized while on the earth; what makes me think he could be put in a box in the corner of my heart after he's left the earth? Nope, he expands from within my soul and impacts my life now and always.