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I am always cognizant that everyone is going through something. The older I get, the more grace I try to show people. When I was younger I was angry, and subscribed to mantras like “may the bridges I burn light my way.” I’m not alone in looking backward at myself and cringing. That’s growth. It’s funny actually, yesterday a grumpy old man tried to scold me for using the term cringe saying:
“Don’t get me started on ‘cringe’…‘What if we invented a concept that further alienated people from otherwise animating beliefs?’ Gee that’s exactly what the modern world needs. Lift up insincerity! JFC yayyy let’s pretend the problem was we were caring too much’”
Some days its more telling than others how we all live in our own realities. This is a real reaction to the use of the word cringe. What a jamoke. As if we don’t all feel embarrassment and shame for others, for ourselves. I’m still embarrassed about going to work the day my dad died. I got the call from my mom through muffled tears on the other end of the line, he was a week short of his 57th birthday, and I was 27 years old. I was very much capital ‘b’ broke at the time, I lived alone in an 800 sq. ft. apartment in Cass Corridor and was still trying to put my life back together after moving back to Detroit from Paris just a few months earlier. Yesterday marks six years to the day. Somehow the anniversary of his death always sneaks up on me. It’s not like a birthday, it’s not a day I’ve grown accustomed to tying to his memory. It just is a thing that happened, that was a long time coming, and felt like a 757 had fallen out of the sky onto my head. No matter how poorly someone’s health is, if that person keeps walking out of hospice alive, laughing in the face of death you end up starting to think to yourself “this motherfucker is going to outlive all of us.” Back then I was a bartender, and had texted my manager to let her know that 1.) my dad was dead, and 2.) I needed to work, but if I seemed off to be understanding. My manager was a wonderful woman, she didn’t want me to work but, I insisted in an effort to take my mind off of things. A fool’s errand. My life felt like a cruel joke that night, me, a 27-year-old bartender trying to gut out a shift for a few hundred dollars cash hours after learning my dad had died of alcoholism.
“comedy equals tragedy plus time”
-Carol Burnett
When people in my orbit lose a loved one, especially so a sibling or a parent, I do everything in my power to reach out to them and try to give them some peace, and kind words. Losing my brother and dad in a five-year window did a lot of things for me, it accelerated my maturation, made me slow down, and maybe most importantly gave me context in order to help others in the darkest moments. As a reminder, this piece is neither therapy nor navel-gazing. I’ve seen a therapist, and think everyone who can afford it should seek therapy. In my experience what people need in the aftermath of a great loss is someone to really, truly listen to them. A conversation that’s more of a monologue where the listener acts as a mirror for those in pain. I know I lacked that in my life 6 years ago and try to make up for it by being there for others. The piece of perspective I often give in these moments is this, “grief doesn’t ever get smaller, the love from other parts of your life will just get bigger around it.” I stand by this and see it in my life. In the six years down the road from my dad’s death I have found more love in every corner of my life to surround that grief. My loving wife, my friendships, my relationships with family members. All of that love cushions me on the hard days. The days when searing anger bubbles up about some stupid shit my dad did or said 15 years ago.
For me, the difference between grief and grieving is, that grieving is what happens as we get used to the fact that our loved one is gone, that we're carrying the absence of them with us. Grief is the natural response to loss and an albatross that will hang around our neck forever. For example, I lost my big brother at only 21 years old so I experienced that grief on my wedding day because it's a new moment where I’m having a response to loss. Whereas "grieving" means that our relationship to that grief changes over time. So the first time, maybe even the first 50 times, you're knocked off balance with grief, it feels terrible and awful and unfamiliar. But maybe the 51st time, you think to yourself, "I hate how this feels, I don't want to feel this way. But I do acknowledge it, and I do know that I will get through this painful wave."
As I navigate grief I learn more about myself and what I’m able and willing to tolerate. Grief is a litmus test for your patience, for your relationships, for the human experience. Grief isn’t clean, or pretty, the stages of grief do not come at you in a linear way. Everyone has to deal with them some time or another, and I hope when you do you’re able to talk to someone close to you about your pain. If we’re personally close I’m more than willing to be that person. Most importantly, I want you to know that you’re not alone out there. We have such a beautiful world, and so much to live for. The world is a better place with you in it.
Be good to one another,
Sean
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A newsletter that explores the humor in the dark moments life provides us through true stories, anecdotes, and everything in between.
Article started with a note about showing more grace to folks by default because you never know what they're going through. A former employer of mine drilled into our heads during training 'Assume Positive Intent', which I think goes nicely with giving folks their own space because you never know what's going on in their own world.
You managed to start and end the piece with positive messaging, which is tough to do when writing on grieving and loss. There are people who will read this piece and benefit from it greatly, and there are others like me who read it and can't compare directly to the emotions you're writing on, but will still appreciate and glean the positive messaging you put into it.
Keep finding the silver linings, keep building up the positivity. In a world that feels like it's out to get each and every one of us in its own way, all we really have are each other and the interactions we provide. Let's make the most of those.