Grief Isn’t Something We Plow Through

January 15, 2016 at 8:27 PM 2 comments

One of my brothers – Eric – committed suicide in 1988.  It’s been a long time.  I forgot how bereaved I was but my long-time therapist hasn’t.  She reminded me recently that I was beside myself.

The way I picture my grief over Eric’s death now is it’s like a room in my head. It’s a room that that I go to now and then.  When I open the door to that room it looks just like it did the day Eric died.  Nothing has changed.  The huge NOOOOOO! is still there.

I thought about Eric every hour of every day for about a year. Then I didn’t.  I remembered him as he was but not as often though that room was still there.  And it still is, though I don’t open that door as often or go into that room as frequently I did years ago.  But, it’s still there.  In my head.

We don’t “get over” losing someone.  This is what we do:








Entry filed under: Musings.

I Hate This Way of Describing People Who Die of Cancer Time to Shovel!

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. doog  |  January 15, 2016 at 9:44 PM

    I’ll share this: – I understand that ‘room’ with the big Noooooo!! Thinking of you.

  • 2. Tim Truett  |  January 16, 2016 at 11:06 AM

    Thank you. This post, with your definition of grief, is wonderful, illuminating and, to me, powerful. I know from experience that grief takes courage and I’ve always felt quite the coward. This places it (and my adaptations) in a much more understandable light.
    Best regards.

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