Respect the Grief

    It can creep up on you. Perhaps you are washing dishes. Maybe you are running or driving. Suddenly, you find yourself crying. Grief is sneaky and grief is real. I recently lost my Aunt Mary and it has given me the chance to think about life, death, and mourning, a little more personally.

     In the old days, there was a designated period of mourning. Though we tend to see this as archaic, it did have a good intention. The bereaved wore different clothes and the bereaved were treated with a reserved respect. The whole process was part of letting go. After my Dad died, I actually had a woman yell "How are you, Mary? How's your Mom?" across a crowded room.  I was able to choke out a weak, "fine," but I made a mental note: Never shout at the bereaved! I can't help but feel that modern society barrels ahead. There is little acknowledgement that the energy and composition of the world has changed.
     I am not arguing for a return to traditional mourning, but I am suggesting that a person can create their own rituals for processing a loved one's passing.  My aunt was a generous gift giver. I have taken this to heart and feel that when I give I am affirming her legacy. I feel like I am saying "She lived and she made a huge difference and I will carry on her work."
     Aside from honoring the deceased, it is good to simply take a deep breath and be quiet. I couldn't attend church last week because my grief was too close to the surface. I am not a public crier. For someone else, going to church might be just the right thing. People are different and they grieve differently; it's important to leave room for that.
     I have regrets. I can think of a million ways that I could have been a better niece. But I'm taking it as an instruction to use my finite time on earth a little better. Gandhi said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." It's never too late for that. Peace to you.