Grief Graffiti

“Walk a mile in the shoes of my inner child, before you judge the ways, in which she chose to cope.

It doesn’t matter, how she survived. It only matters, that she did.”

~Little girl speak

I’ve written about this before but today I felt a little angry about it. I’m referring to friends who “unfriend” you or distance themselves when you’re grieving. I guess I just don’t understand how someone can do that because I never would. And believe me, I have had to deal with some pretty toxic behavior in some of my grieving friends. While it wasn’t easy, and there were times I had to bit my tongue & take a little break from them, I never gave up on them or stopped being their friend. So it hurts, a lot, when I think about the friends in my life who I thought would always be there for me, like I was for them, and yet when I needed them most they left.

But apparently this is more common than I thought, and I’ve heard from other grievers that they had friends and even family disappear on them when they lost their child. There are many reasons experts give for this, but this article I read today really spoke to me & gave me comfort. And I hope it will be a comfort for anyone else who has experienced this.

5 Hard Things: Lessons You’ll Learn More Than Once

1. There will be people in your life that cannot hang on through your hills and valleys. Their grip will loosen on a steep climb through a particularly dense forest, and they will let go. Sometimes they yell and scream at you as they slip away, and sometimes, they leave without a fight.

On a bright Tuesday morning, you’ll smell something that reminds you of that Saturday night when you thought time was standing perfectly still – when you didn’t feel the ticking seconds fleck off of your skin. When your laugh made the bar turn and notice and when you thought it was the both of you against the world.

You will take a deep breath with the wash cloth in your hand, and here’s what you should do, babe – you hold onto the good memories deep inside your scarred chest and these pieces of shining light will still shine through like some kind of vintage, discarded chandelier.

Some of your tribe won’t be able to hang on, and it’s hard – but you’ll be okay.

2. Sometimes the anger you have will simmer at the back of your neck. Your cheeks will flush and your fists will clench. It will roll off of your shoulders like smoke billows off of the hottest embers.

Maybe they’ll call you crazy. Maybe they’ll patronize you for losing your temper. Maybe they’ll laugh at the flames flowing from your red, burned lips. Maybe they won’t understand the tide that churns just beneath your skin.

Momma used to say that a woman only needs to lose her shit one time if she does it right, and maybe you’ve forgotten that advice, baby.

Punching walls and screaming never did really help anything though, and sometimes that feels hard. You’ll still end up okay.

3. The truth rests at the back of your tongue. I’m convinced that this is why it’s so easy for people swallow it whole.

Even if it causes and earthquake and even if – in its wake – you leave a trail of debris that looks a whole bunch like a tornado, you still choke those words out.

Even if it causes a hole in a heart, and even if it causes the Earth herself to pause and grieve for a second – you still choke those words out.

The truth is hard sometimes, baby. And even if you have to whisper it in the dark while your laying on the bathroom floor – you still speak your truth.

4. Some people won’t be able to understand your words or your heart or your politics or your love or your thoughts. They will water their lawns and watch you burn, and it really doesn’t have anything to do with you.

Small people think small thoughts and live small lives and their claws are sharp, sister. They will yank and pull you off of your ladder, while forgetting that they’re balancing on their own.

Kill them with kindness and then forget their names in the same kind of way that you forget about that kind of okay restaurant downtown or that coffee creamer that was too bitter.

When you’re building castles in clouds that they can’t understand, you just don’t have time for people that sink like faded pool weights in July.

It’s hard to understand – I know. It was never about you anyway.

5. Sometimes they will leave. And the stars will fall from your eyes and the corners of your mouth will droop in deep, deep disappointment. Your chest will feel heavy and every step you take will exhaust you.

I know it’s so hard. I know, I know. But when you live through your hardest day and you put your sweaty palm on your chest –

your heart reminds you second by second –

you are a damn survivor.

Even when it was hard.

~xoxox, B.