NEXT GENERATION OF GRIEVERS

Recently a friend’s father died. What a horrible tragedy. It was not necessarily unexpected, but that really makes no difference.

Expected or not, death sets into motion the crushing wheel of grief. Once the wheel starts rolling, it’s nearly impossible to stop. It generally continues until it runs its course or we divert it onto a different track and try to suppress it.

Suppressing it is a mistake. A defining characteristic of grief is that whenever a new grief event occurs, it brings up all the unresolved grief we’ve buried in the past. Even more insidious, we’re not even aware that unresolved grief is gripping us.

I’m a fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation. When the series ran, I scheduled nothing during its time slot. If the unthinkable happened — some event came up that I just couldn’t wriggle out of — I made damn sure my VCR was set to record it. Plus, I had other Trekkie friends as backup to record it. I was/am indeed a fan, going back to the origination of the word, as a derivative of “fanatic.” When they announced the final season, I was devastated. After the credits of the last show finished, I realized I was grieving.

How silly I thought it was that I should grieve over a television series. But I did. I felt as if I lost friends who I’d invited into my living room each week. When the series was released on DVD, I bought all seven seasons and relived my adventures with the crew of the Starship Enterprise.

A few years later, I learned how each new grief event reawakens all past unresolved grief. My unreasonable behavior regarding the ending of Star Trek then made sense.

It wasn’t so much my grief over losing contact with the characters, but it did bring me face-to-face with all the previous loss I’d encountered throughout my life — from the ending of friendships and a marriage, right up to the death of my parents.

It wasn’t that I missed Commander Data and Captain Picard. It reminded me of the profound and debilitating pain of loss.

I set about making peace with myself regarding my past losses. Instead of just keeping it bottled up inside me and suppressing my grief, I embraced it.

I cried. Boy, did I cry. I thought about how much I missed my parents. I accepted it was okay to admit I missed them. I lamented all the holidays I’d never share with them. I cursed all the vacations we’d never have the opportunity to take together. I got mad with the immutability of death.

Now I feel more at peace with my loss. I still miss them dearly, along with all the other people who’ve exited my life. But, I am more at peace with loss.

So, I hope my friend doesn’t try to suppress her grief or push away her feelings of loss over her dad. Rather, I pray she embraces them. Cries. Gets mad. Then releases the hold that keeps her tethered to his loss.

NOTE: An excellent book worth reading on grief is “The Grief Recovery Handbook – The Action Program for Moving Beyond Death, Divorce and Other Losses,” ISBN-10: 0060952733, written by John W. James & Russell Friedman, respectively the Founder and Executive Director of the Grief Recovery Institute. It’s not a theoretical book explaining grief in psychological terms. It’s filled with practical advice and meaningful exercises that successfully moves the reader through the grieving process.

If you're enjoying this over coffee, tea, or whatever, please consider buying me a cup!