Grieving the Loss of a Loved One. Lorene Hanley Duquin
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8. Time
Grief makes one hour ten.…
— William Shakespeare
Time passes slowly when we’re struggling with the pain of grief. We tell ourselves that we will be okay if we can just get through the next hour, the next half hour, the next fifteen minutes. There are moments, especially during the dark hours of the night, when time seems to stand still.
We may feel as if we have been locked in a prison of grief. We wonder how long it will last. We wonder if our life will ever go back to being normal again.
If we turn to Scripture, we recall Jesus announcing that he had come to “proclaim liberty to captives / and recovery of sight to the blind, / to let the oppressed go free, / and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord” (Lk 4:18-19).
What could those words possibly mean for us as we struggle through our grief? Can Jesus liberate us from the prison of grief that we find ourselves in? Can Jesus help us to see things differently? Can Jesus free us from the oppressive feelings of loss that we experience?
The answer is yes, but it won’t happen instantaneously. Most bereavement experts agree it takes a full year to work through the pain of losing a loved one. Throughout the year, the raw feelings of grief eventually give way to a more aching kind of grief. The whole purpose of grieving is to move us to a place where memories are no longer painful and we can continue with our lives.
Do we have enough faith to believe that Jesus can help us through this painful process? Can we believe that throughout our time of bereavement we will begin to see things in a new way? Can we trust that the Lord will give us the strength we need?
Maybe we need to look at our time of grieving as “a year acceptable to the Lord.”
Prayer: Lord, strengthen my faith as I move through this time of grief. Help me to see that feelings of grief will rise and fall at different levels of intensity for months. Allow me to rely on you for the comfort and courage I need to move through the prison of grief. Amen.
It wasn’t until years after the death of her mother that St. Thérèse of Lisieux described in her spiritual autobiography, The Story of a Soul, how the Lord consoled her in her grief:
God’s little flower would never have survived if He had not poured his warmth and light on her. She was still too frail to stand up to rain and storm. She needed warmth, the gently dropping dew and the soft airs of spring. She was never without them, for Jesus gave them to her, even amidst the bleak winter of her suffering.
9. The Gift of Tears
Jesus wept.
— John 11:35
The problem with tears is that we never know when something will trigger an emotional response in us. It might be a song on the radio, or an image that pops into our heads, or something that someone says.
There are times when tears simply start to flow, and we don’t even know why. Our eyes fill up, and we feel self-conscious, especially if we are around people who are not comfortable with tears. We may try to stop ourselves from crying, or we may rush off to a private place where we can break down. We may think of tears as our enemy, as something bad, something that embarrasses us, something that requires an apology.
When we look at the Scriptures, however, we discover that Jesus wept openly when his friend Lazarus died (Jn 11:35). Jesus did not try to hide his sadness. He was not embarrassed by his emotions. He did not apologize or run off. Jesus simply wept, and in doing so, he gave us permission to weep over the loss of someone we love.
Tears are an important part of the grieving process. A study by Dr. William H. Frey II, a biochemist at the St. Paul-Ramsey Medical Centre in Minnesota, found that the tears of a grieving person have a chemical makeup that is different from the tears of someone who is slicing onions. Tears are God’s way of allowing us to release the toxins that build up in our bodies during times of grief. Tears of grief are actually good for us.
After a good cry, we feel calmness in the depths of our being. It’s almost as if the built-up emotions have suddenly flushed out in our flood of tears. Our hearts feel less heavy. The grief we have been carrying is a little lighter.
Many of the greatest saints refer to tears as a gift. Tears cleanse our emotions the same way the waters of baptism cleanse our souls. Our tears are holy. Our tears have meaning and purpose. Our tears are a gift from a gracious and loving God who knows the depths of our pain.
So the next time our eyes flood with tears, we can simply say to those around us, “I need to cry for a moment because tears help to restore my strength and my spirit.” We don’t have to apologize. We don’t have to feel embarrassed. Going off to a private place is okay. But we may discover that, like Jesus, our ability to weep openly gives others permission to cry. And we may find that the people who share our grief will begin to recognize that their tears are a gift too.
Prayer: Lord, help me to appreciate the gift of tears. Give me the courage to accept my tears. Allow my tears to release some of the sadness that I feel. Allow my tears to wash away some of the pain. And after my tears have ended, Lord, give me blessed calm. Amen.
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” — Washington Irving
10. The Problem of Sleep
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night.
— Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sleep is one of our greatest challenges when we are grieving. During the daytime, when we are supposed to be active and alert, we often feel as if we are forcing ourselves to keep going when all we really want is to escape into a deep sleep. At night, we often lie awake, plagued by thoughts or memories. We are like the psalmist who wrote:
You have kept me from closing my eyes in sleep;
I am troubled and cannot speak.
I consider the days of old;
the years long past I remember. (Ps 77:5-6)
We know that we need to sleep. We know that sleep will restore us. But we toss and turn in a useless attempt to drift off. Or we may fall asleep, only to awaken from a vivid dream about our loved one, and we find it impossible to get back to sleep again. We are left with feelings of complete exhaustion.
It’s important to remember that the Lord urges us, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28).
When we’re having difficulty falling asleep, it helps if we can use our imagination to place ourselves in the arms of the Lord. We can imagine that the Lord is comforting us in our grief. We can close our eyes and repeat to ourselves, “I am resting with the Lord. … I am resting with the Lord.…”
In this way, we can turn our difficulties with sleep into a special kind of prayer.
Prayer: Lord, I need you to be with me through the darkness of the night. Allow me to rest in you. I am weary, and I need your comfort