31 Mar HOLD ON!
by Lars Hunter
Bereavement Program Coordinator
I believe if there is any time of year that resembles grief it’s the months of March and April. They are months of change, new light, bird song, and the days that can also bring us back into the throes of winter. If you live in Windham County you know these first days of spring have been wild. Some warmer temperatures teased us, only to be followed by howling winds and bitter cold the past couple of days, a roller coaster of weather, deciding what clothing is appropriate for the elements, and if snow shovels or garden rakes should be taken out of the shed. This is Vermont: It can be what we love about living here, or it may frustrate us as the days can’t seem to make up their mind.
Just like the weather, grief can also behave in a similar way. One day we may feel we have come to some peace with our feelings, and the next day we’re slammed with the howling winds of sadness and anxiety. The cold dark moments of despair when tears flow unmanageably can give way to times of brighter light, a few minutes of laughter, and a lifting of sorrow.
We can’t predict the weather or our grief; it comes as it may, when it wants to in the form it chooses. We have little to no control, and that can be scary. But we can prepare for the weather and our grief. We make sure our homes are equipped with good heating and cooling systems, we buy an array of attire to suit whatever the weather may bring, and we check the weather forecast at least once a day. We can also prepare ourselves for our uncontrollable and unpredictable grief responses, especially the ones that are debilitating and stop us from functioning. We can read books, articles, and websites that address grief and what others have experienced. We can talk with a friend, family member, or trained grief supporter about our feelings and concerns. We can also join a grief support group and listen to how others are both grieving and dealing with their grief.
Grief is experienced differently each day, yet just as we know March and April will bring us to warmer and sunnier days, the grief process will also do the same. It will take longer than a couple of months, but it is the hope of those brighter days that we can hold onto, even as we wait out bitter cold and stormy days. The snow will melt as will our sadness, and like the snow our grief will return, but we can be better prepared for it the next time. We can make sure our grief heat is in place, our grief clothes are appropriate, and our grief support systems are in place.
We will grieve for as long as we love the person who has died, which will most likely be for the rest of our lives. But the unexpected snow or rainstorm will always bring golden days of sunshine, colorful flowers, and gardens full of abundant food. The storms of grief will come less often and our spiritual colors will return.
As we enter the second year of the pandemic crisis, we may not feel much hope for better days. We are tired, grieving the loss of life as we knew it, the hugs of friends and family members, and engaging in activities we enjoy. There does seem to be some light at the end of this long tunnel. Vaccines and fewer cases and deaths will eventually bring us to a new normal and an ability to be with others without fear of illness and death.
So, hold on, dear griever! Hold on as the seasons change, the storms come and go, and grief seems to lack a sense of meaning or continuity. Breathe in the fresh air and comforting feelings when they appear, and hold onto those support systems when the days are dark and the wind beats the windows, seemingly never to end. Grief, just like the weather, is ever-changing and sometimes resembles the ride on a rollercoaster, but that too always comes to an end. Hold on as the pangs of pain flash through our bodies from nowhere, and hold on for the coming of lazy days on porches, and calmer days of internal peace.
Warmly,
Lars