Loss smacks us like a tsunami. It leaves us stunned and shaken, wondering what hit us. Grief can be intense.
From the Grieving Heart:
How could this happen?
This can’t be real. You’re going to walk through that door any moment, I just know it.
The tears start to flow. They morph into sobs. I can hear myself screaming.
Yes, I feel sick. My stomach is churning. I’m lightheaded. The room is spinning.
Breathe. Yes, I must breathe. Somehow.
Is this what a broken heart feels like?
No, this can’t be real. You were just here. I swear I can hear your voice.
I’m closing my eyes. Please be there when I open them.
Please.
It hurts – badly.
Grief can be intense. Here are 3 reasons why:
1. Grief can be intense because it tears the heart.
We’re in this together. Our hearts are connected. There are people we love dearly. When a loved one departs, there is a tearing that occurs. The separation of two objects glued firmly together is messy, and neither object is ever the same.
Loss tears the heart. It can even break and shatter it.
2. Grief can be intense because love is strong.
Love lasts. It endures. When someone dies, our hearts love on. We look for them. We listen for their voice.
Then, reality hits. They’re gone. We cry, sob, and even scream. The sudden intensity of grief can make us feel ill. Our hearts cry, “No!”
We loved them. We love them still. Because our love is strong, our grief can be too. We grieve because we dared to love.
3. Grief can be intense because loss is powerful.
Loss is shocking and powerful. We’re stunned, even immobilized. Our world has been upended. Nothing is the same. We’re dazed. We move in a fog. We blink and wonder what happened and how we got here.
Loss hurts. We’re made for connection, so we don’t do separation well.
What can we do?
What do we do? We grieve. Grief is a natural and normal response to a loss.
We let the tears flow. We let the sobs come. We scream if necessary. Our hearts are expressing our love through grief.
We will never be the same. How could we be? A tearing apart has occurred, and it hurts.
Affirmation:
Because my love is deep, my grief may be intense. Tears are natural, and healthy.
Adapted from the newly released Caring for Grieving Hearts: Hope and Encouragement for Times of Loss. To watch a brief video about the book, click here.
Additional resource: Grief affects us physically too. This only adds to the intensity. Please check out my article on Wellness.com, 5 Steps for When Grief Gets Physical. Be kind to yourself.
I lost my 11 month old daughter on April 30, 2018 after her father, my husband, left her in her car seat in his jeep. He never took her to day care and claims he never thought or remembered her all day. Even though I had called him at least 3 times that day. She had been left there from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm. She was 11 days away from celebrating her first birthday. I am dealing with losing her, his lack of remorse and immediately hiring lawyers and the authorities seeking to call this an accident. He has not been charged. She is my only child and my love. One mishap just compounds the other. I struggle to speak of her in the past tense. Devastated does not begin to describe my feelings.
Hi Allison. Oh no. I’m so sorry. How devastating and traumatic. And complicated. And you’re right – one loss often leads to another. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. Do you have anyone there that you can share freely with? Please don’t try to go this alone.
Gary, a friend gave me the link to your web site. I recently lost my grandson (23 years old) and I never knew it was possible to hurt so much. All I feel right now is anger, no that’s not true, it’s more like rage, betrayal, and pain, overwhelming pain. I hope this can help me. I have lost my parents, but there sense in that and comfort in knowing that they were old and sick and that there was an end to their suffering. Even though it hurt, I was happy for them to be at peace. Here, where I am now, there is no peace, no comfort — just darkness and pain.
I’m so sorry. Sometimes, the pain of loss is shocking. And then there are times where we experience all kinds of loss and seem to do okay, and then an “unusual” or “out of place” loos comes along and we are undone. Our hearts are so resilient, and fragile. I’m so sorry about your grandson. This is a hard, tough road…and yes, it can feel very dark. And lonely. Just please know that you are not alone in this, no matter what it feels like. Your loss is uniquely yours, but so many of us are traveling this grief road too. Thankfully, we have each other. Please feel free to reach out any time. Please. Blessings to you…
They ALL said THIS would get easier better even that I would yet 2 years and 2 months later…..I’m STILL struggling to BE HERE NOW when my heart cries to GO BE with him…my lov9 my lifeline my ONLY child my Son.
Hi Shondra. Thank you for sharing. Yes…perhaps we will always grieve, especially in losses like yours. After all, you will always miss him. I’m so sorry for all the pain. Please know that you are not alone in this, and please reach out here, or other places, any time. It’s an honor to walk with you in this. Together, somehow, we will put one foot in front of the other.
well written, helpful, and honest . We faced the death of our daughter in 2006 after her drowning at age 22- Lauren E. Avezzie
Gratefully submitted, Cindi Avezzie
I just finished putting together at web site for our grief support group Hearts that HEAL which I lead. Would you please give me your opinion of it: heartsthatheal.net
Thanks. And let me know how my husbandDavid William Avezzie & I may help you. We do not want to waste pain.
Hi Cindi. Thanks so much for writing. I’m so sorry about Lauren. What a deep, deep loss.
I love your site. It is clean, simple, and to the point. You have multiple options for dialog and great resources. I’m so proud of you for doing this. Is there any way I can help you?
I’m glad we’re in this together. I’m sure we can find ways to connect and work together to help as many as possible. Let’s stay in touch!
Blessings to you, Cindi. Please tell David hello.
Love what I just read. I can’t wait to get the book.
Hi Alice. Thank you for commenting. Please let me know what you think of the book. I’m so eager for it to be helpful. And please feel free to reach out and let me know if I can serve you in any way. Blessings to you…
I lost my son on 5/22/18. I hurt so bad. My son and I were very close. I miss him so much. My daughter also passed away at 18 due to a car accident. I miss them so much. Thank you for emailing me this. It means a lot.
Hi Lisa. I’m so, so sorry about your son. Goodness, and so recent too. And also your daughter. What terrible losses. Please feel free to share, vent or whatever, any time. And know that you are not alone in this. Blessings to you…
ty, Gary. this was wonderful. our oldest grandson became handicapped at 4 months but lived to be ll.7 y.o. first accepting his limitations was ever so hard, and then when he died it was one of the worst things that our family had ever been through. I didn’t know how to help my daughter through it. She was 10 when my mother died and we just didn’t talk about it much although we had all lived together; she didn’t want to see me cry… I know now grief is some of the hardest work one ever does…
HI Dawn. Thanks for sharing this. I’m so sorry about your grandson. What a brave and courageous little guy he must have been. Yes, grief is tough stuff – hard, hard, hard work. Unpredictable. Confusing. Painful. If I can help in any way, Dawn, please reach out and let me know. Blessings to you…