My Grief

By Trish Briggs

Grief accompanies any loss. We lose and let go of people, things, ideas, seasons etc. every day of our life. In this way, grief is our constant companion.

Sometimes the hit is small and other times it is a heavy hit that brings us to our knees. I have come to realize over time that our grief is colored by the relationship we have with what is lost. My grief over my father’s death was much different from my mother’s death. I had different relationships with each of them. Any regrets for things said, or unsaid, and any unresolved issues/emotions are brought to the surface in our grief.

As a child growing up, I watched and learned about grief from my grandmother. She was present when I lost my first dog and comforted me with her wisdom. I watched as she buried most of her adult children and spouses before her own death. She lived to her mid-nineties and was only survived by only her two youngest children. She expressed regret that they all had to die before it was her turn but what stood out to me was the graceful way she allowed herself to grieve. She grieved and she grieved deeply. More importantly, she relied on her faith, inner strength,and allowed the grieving process to happen.

I lost my mother when I was in my twenties; her death hit me hard. I went into a depression (didn’t know it at the time) and it felt like all the joy was sucked out of my life. It took a long time before I felt more like myself. I lost my father when I was in my thirties and this time around, I felt more prepared. I immediately sought out medical help for potential depression. However, later I realized that I was not hit as hard in the moment because I had already been grieving him for some time. This is when I realized that the grief we feel is different each time.

My husband died when I was in my late forties. I realized in this grief I had no control over anything. Atleast not in the traditional sense. He was ill for many months prior to his passing. I realized I could go with the flow gracefully or fight it. In fighting it, I would use up precious energy that I could devote to enjoying, being present, and making lasting memories with my husband before he was gone. So, I left everything in God’s hands and for me, I feel like this time together as a family was very sacred and special. It was a gift. I walked away from the experience knowing that everything can change in an instant, so say I love you and mean it. You may not get another chance.

Afterwards, I experienced grief but there was also an immediate acceptance that hadn’t been there before. I had found the grace that my grandmother had shown me.

Enter my fifties and I begin my self-healing journey in earnest. My awareness and sense of self grows. I have a special dog, Thorton. I am very emotionally attached to him, and he feels the same way. It is difficult to put into words the relationship I had with this dog. It is like no other in my life. I look into his eyes, and I see love for me shining brightly back at me. My daughter has suggested that he was channeling twin flame energy for me. I don’t know if that was it or not. He was my companion during my self-healing journey.

I am now in my sixties. He is getting older and experiencing more pain. I know that he will be dying sometime in near future. One morning, I wake from an experience during my sleep where I was told that I was being prepared for his death. I remember hearing that this had to be done or I would never survive his death. I recall feeling like the marrow was being pulled out of every bone throughout my body. The sensation was very deep and painful. I woke and cried all day. My grieving process had begun.

About six months later, Thorton developed pneumonia and his one lung filled with fluid. He refused to take the antibiotic. I knew the time was near and had already talked to the vet about options. We went to bed one night (I let him sleep on my bed) and he started moaning and wouldn’t stop. I reached over and petted him. I told him that I would take care of it in the morning. He didn’t need to suffer any longer. He stopped moaning. So, I knew it was the right thing to do and it was what he wanted.

Afterwards, I was devastated. I had never felt grief to this depth before. I would wake up crying or suddenly burst into tears unexpectedly. I began talking to a counselor because I wondered why I would feel this level of grief over my dog. I hadn’t felt it like this over my husband, who I loved dearly. From his perspective, this level of grief was understandable because Thorton had been with me through all my self-healing work. The bond between us was deep/strong because of the level of work I had accomplished with him at my side.

When we went on vacation several months later, I shared a room with my daughter. She told me that I was making strange lilting noises in my sleep. She recorded them. I listened to her recording. I hadn’t heard anything like it before. About a month later,I caught myself making the same strange noises as I slept. While I continued to sleep, I asked myself what I was doing. What were these noises? I heard someone distinctly answer “Keening.” I looked it up when I got out of bed in the morning. I had never heard this word before. I found it is a traditional vocal lament for the dead (Gaelic). This gave me comfort because it validated the depth of my feelings.

There is nothing pretty about the grieving process. But if you allow it to happen, allow yourself to feel the emotions move through you, the process can be graceful. Grief, if you allow it, can move you to brighter days with more fulfilling relationships and purpose.