Grief isn't linear. It doesn't follow a neat, predictable path. Instead, it arrives in waves, sometimes gentle ripples lapping at the shore, other times monstrous swells crashing over you, leaving you breathless and disoriented. This is the story of how I learned to navigate those waves, to find solace in the tumultuous ocean of sorrow, and ultimately, to find my way back to calmer waters.
My grandmother, Nana Elsie, was the anchor of our family. Her laughter was infectious, her hugs warm and comforting, and her wisdom immeasurable. When she passed, it felt like the earth had shifted beneath my feet. The initial shock was a numb, surreal experience. Then came the waves.
What are the stages of grief? Are they always linear?
The Kübler-Ross model—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—is often cited. However, it's crucial to understand that grief isn't a checklist. It's not a journey with five clearly defined stops. The waves of grief can bring any of these emotions, in any order, and with varying intensity. One day I might feel a deep, pervasive sadness (depression), while the next I might be consumed by anger at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes, I'd find myself bargaining—if only I'd called her more often, if only I'd visited more frequently. There's no right or wrong way to grieve.
How long does grief last?
There's no set timeframe for grief. Some people feel the intensity of their loss diminish after a few months, while others experience waves of grief for years. The intensity and duration are unique to each individual, depending on their relationship with the deceased, their support system, and their coping mechanisms. The important thing is to allow yourself the time you need to heal.
How do I cope with grief that comes in waves?
This was the most challenging aspect. Initially, I tried to fight the waves, to suppress the emotions, to pretend everything was okay. This, unsurprisingly, didn't work. Instead, I learned to embrace the waves, to acknowledge their power, and to ride them out. Here's what helped:
Allowing Myself to Feel: Suppressing emotions only prolongs the grieving process. I allowed myself to cry, to scream, to rage—whatever emotion surfaced, I let it flow.
Seeking Support: Talking to friends, family, and a therapist provided invaluable support. Sharing my experiences helped me process my grief and feel less alone. Support groups also offer a safe space to connect with others who understand.
Finding Healthy Coping Mechanisms: Exercise, meditation, spending time in nature—these activities helped regulate my emotions and provided moments of peace amidst the storm. Journaling also became a crucial outlet for expressing my feelings.
Remembering the Good Times: Focusing on the positive memories I had with Nana Elsie helped me find comfort and joy amidst my sorrow. I looked through old photos, shared stories with loved ones, and cherished the legacy she left behind.
The waves of grief still come, even now, months later. But they're smaller, less frequent, and easier to navigate. I've learned that grief is a part of life, a testament to the depth of love we share with those we lose. It's a process, not a destination, and while the journey is challenging, it's also one that ultimately leads to healing, acceptance, and a deeper appreciation for the preciousness of life. The ocean of grief may always have its currents, but I've learned to swim, to find my own rhythm, and to navigate toward calmer waters.
