Within eyesight of four score years, I consider myself to be acquainted with grief. I have experienced the loss of my parents, grandparent, uncles and aunts, cousins, in-laws and numerous friends including the unexpected loss of my best friend. Additionally, over the years I have had occasion to minister to others in their grief.
In each of those circumstances grief was present. Expressions of grief from the bereaved varied widely but always produced feelings of sympathy and sorrow on my part. Years of experience both as a bereaved and as a comforter, left me with cautious confidence that I was qualified to deal with grief.
Then, on December 10, 2018, we received a call from our daughter Melissa to tell us her oldest son Ryan had taken his own life. At that moment, grief I had been acquainted with was overshadowed by an alien grief. A soul penetrating pain that came with that news stripped away superficial consolations my previous experiences with grief had taught me. There was no comfort adequate for the moment, not even God. “My God, why have you forsaken me?”
In the succeeding days, that alien grief took up residence. I recognized its presence in our daughter and son-in-law and their remaining children. It gripped my wife Ann tenaciously, leaving her inconsolable . It was pervasive.
The memorial service, with beautiful eulogies and sincere prayers and expressions of love and concern by several hundred friends and family revealed an unsettling paradox. Words and embraces were welcomed, appropriate and appreciated but insufficient to penetrate to the depth where alien grief had taken up residence.
Hopeful of some mystical elixir that would heal my grief, I attended church the following Sunday. What I encountered in worship was revealing. I did not experience comfort. The songs and music were offensive. The atmosphere of jubilance was hollow. Instead of feeling the embrace of community, I felt very alone and isolated.
In the weeks and months since, as I have thought about those experiences and others, I have some observations, in no particular order:
- Not all grief is the same and not all people grieve the same.
- Consolation offered to the bereaved is expected and appropriate but should never be considered sufficient .
- Consolation should leave room for and welcome lament.
- Grief is not something you get past, it is something you have to learn to live with.
- When lament is repressed, healing is deferred.
- I will never see grief in the way I did before.
- Faith in God cannot be measured by a response in the moments of grief, but can be seen by how one learns to live with grief and minister to other’s grief.
- It is in the midst of grief that authenticity, repentance, redemption and love find opportunity.
I am sure this is not a final word on grief for you or me.
Thank you George. I too thought I had experienced grief before I lost a child. You are so right—it is different. I pray for comfort and peace for you and Ms Ann, Melissa, and the rest of the family as you learn to live in this new normal.
Ann & George!!! ?????
I love you all. You’re family is always on my mind and in my heart. Prayers of comfort are still being lifted daily. Thank you, George for sharing your heart.
Thank you, Dad. I am so sorry our pain was also your deepest pain. I am eternally grateful for all the love and support you and Mom have given and continue to give us. Grief is so, so hard. However, I believe it would be much harder to have to carry it alone.
I love you,
Melissa
Wow….Amazing words….Thank you George… You have & will always be a special Man to me…Much Love to you and family
Your words truly touched my heart. I’ve been told that I write touching sympathy cards but this one I could not write because I, thank God, have not experienced your loss. I’m sure it helps you to write from your heart. I know it is a pain that never goes away because I live next door to a family who lost their only child to suicide 16 years ago. He was 24. I was here and heard their blood curdling cries when they pulled him from the garage. My heart will continue to ache for them and for you and all families of suicide. May God continue to heal you one second at a time. Love you guys so much.
All the things you wrote I learned over 40 years ago and I am still learning to live with the grief from having lost a child. Many times I have said each grief is different making it I’m possible to prepare for the next time. That’s where trust in God to go with us through that ordeal comes into play. My heart goes out to all of your family and prayers have been prayed for God to give you peace. I am still learning how to live with grief since the Fred’s death. Grief changes one’s perspective of what is important in life. Perhaps that is the purpose of grief. May God bless you and give you peace.