Thursday, June 20, 2013

Grief is love unexpressed

Grief is love unexpressed. This is my current view of grief: the seeming inability to express love to someone who has passed, or to feel love expressed from them.

For some reason, the past week I have really been thinking about my friend who passed on. Here I am, almost 8 months later, and some days I feel as if I've made absolutely no progress on this grief. Sometimes I have these deep insights, or moments of peace, or a sense of a loving presence... And then some days I feel as if the grief tidal wave knocks me down again, just as strongly as the first time. It is a strange feeling, to be walking along one day or doing housework or coming home from church, and then suddenly feeling a need to sit down before the wave hits me, my body being thrown completely askew by some memory or strong sense of loss.

I have felt so many things in the past 8 months, so many different types of grief, and this current one seems related to the loss of opportunities for love to be expressed. This relationship was so rich, so deep, and there was so much love present. When someone passes on, there is still so much love present, but no longer an obvious outlet for that love. All this love builds up more and more, and without an outlet, without a way to show my friend all this love, I become overwhelmed by all these built-up feelings. This is the best way I know how to describe it.

I miss all the little ways we interacted, the ways I demonstrated my love for her. When I feel the tidal wave of grief, it is when I feel this regret of not being able to hug her again, or send her an email or call her or tease her or cook for her or... All the ways I know how to express love, that are now unfulfilled and just being tossed around in my brain as lost possibilities.

As much as I miss being loving towards her, I also, selfishly, miss the feeling I got when she was loving towards me. Her boisterous, vibrant, accented voice coming through my phone, telling me I was strong and capable, like a lion! I want to experience more of the intensity of her personality and how it spilled into everything she did, from her emails to her physical presence to the sometimes outlandish things she said, always with love and compassion. Or the way she cared and thought about me, the maternal way she always made sure I was eating enough, the way she asked if I had met anyone "meaningful" in dating. "And you know to only date someone who honors you, who treats you with respect, right? You know that?" Making sure I got enough sleep, "Okay, it's late! Go get some sleep. Sweet dreams", asked if I was feeling well, had enough fun in my life. "Go on some adventures. Live your life. Have fun." I miss how special and important she made me feel. And of course, I miss the loving phrases.

My friend used terms of endearment to address me, and they were mostly terms in her native language. The past week I've been revisiting those phrases, and even though I've done so several times before, I've been asking a native speaker what the phrases mean. I keep thinking that somehow, by hearing the translation again, there will be some nuance I missed. Some meaning that was previously unknown to me that will suddenly make the grief more bearable. But it's the same translation I've heard before, loving and personal, but offering no key to the grief.

Me: Can you tell me what it means again?
Her: It means my sweetheart, my daughter, my little cutie.
Me: So... you say it to someone you love, right?
Her: Yes! But you already know that; you don't need a phrase to tell you she loved you.

Nonetheless, I ridiculously cling to these phrases, feeling that they are all I have left. I seem to forget that love can be felt on another level, and does not rely on the 5 senses, because love is more than what we can just feel or see or hear.

Grief is such a heart-wrenching emotion or stage of experience, but there is so much beauty in there somewhere, the longing for what was such a gift in our life, the love that had yet to be expressed, the desire to feel that special way that person made you feel, the wish to tell them even if it's for the millionth time, "I love you soooo much. Thank you for being in my life." So much love to give, and when someone passes on, we are left holding all of this love and it seems as though the relationship was cut short, because how could there be all this left-over love?

Today, after a week of feeling a bit heavy with grief, I had an insight: Is the love really unexpressed? Love can never die, nothing good can ever be lost, and even if I can't see my friend, she still knows I love her. I can't hear her voice, but I still know she loves me too. Even though her physical body is no longer living, she is not gone. All the love I have for her and feel towards her isn't wasted. And if nothing good ever can be lost, how could she not feel this love still, even now? In the past few months, I have felt so much love from her, beyond what the 5 senses can tell me. Also, it is not like she is suddenly gone from my life and I have to stop loving her. She is just as present as before, as strange as that sounds, because the friendship transcends the surface ways that we were previously connected.

I still have such a long way to go in dealing with this grief, but I feel that little by little I am making some progress. Realizing, even at the beginning stages, that the love is being expressed even now, seems like a little step forward.

I've posted this poem before, but it fits with this blog so well that I'm posting it again.


Thinking today
About love
And intensity and strength;
And wondering what we all need.

It comes from within
And comes from above
But still, still...
Everyone needs someone in their life
Who says, "I adore you."

"You're the best."
"You make me laugh."
"I love you." 


 Otherwise, God would have made
7 billion little islands
Instead of 7 continents.

1 comment: