After Grace died, I’ve had a very difficult time seeing smiles on the faces of others…especially from those who know that we lost a daughter. (I've come to realize that just because they "know" our daughter died, they don't "know" how different life has become.) It's been difficult giving grace to others, especially when I don't have Grace. Back to the smiles...This was especially difficult to see only days and weeks after our lives changed. (It continues to be difficult, at times, even today.) I couldn’t understand how people could come up to me with smiles on their faces (to me, their smiles were overwhelmingly HUGE), talk about "nothing"…or should I say, talk about anything but Grace, and act as though nothing happened. In a way, nothing did happen…to them. Our lives changed…not theirs. Now they’re left to wonder why we’ve become so different.
We begin to "paint" smiles on our faces, because it seems as though that’s what we’re expected to do…smile. We’re Christians and sometimes it feels like we’re not supposed to hurt or struggle. My mom was asked by her pastor how she was doing. Dad died about 2 months before Easter and she said something like, "Not so good, " or "It’s been difficult." His reply was, "Christ is risen!" Yep, we know that, but believing that doesn’t make us feel any better or take away one ounce of the pain that we feel as we miss our loved ones. I’ve become too afraid to say anything to some because of the response I may or may not receive.
Someone gave me an analogy to try explaining why we’ve been avoiding one another. She wrote "… how many times will someone smile at someone before they stop because they don't get the same response back…Perhaps that is what I struggled with, expecting something in return." That analogy got me thinking…We don’t want to see others in pain. When we do, we try to fix it. We want them to feel better. We want to take their mind off what hurts them. We want them to think that we know exactly how they must feel. Notice all of the "we wants". Grief is not about "you". I don’t even know if it’s about "me". I continue to struggle with the expectations that others have of me after losing a child...especially when my expectations were to have a child.
I’ve done this so many times, too. I’ve smiled at someone who’s hurting, and if they smiled back I thought, "Good, they’re smiling. They must be o.k. If they’re in church today…appearing to be holding up, they must be 'better'." I never realized, until Grace died, just how difficult it is to be such a good liar.
A friend put it this way, "Eventually you get sick of living a lie." She also lives with a child in heaven. There came a point early on when I just stopped looking at others. If we didn't actually "see" each other we could pretend that the other wasn’t there. I didn’t have to see their smile, and they didn't have to approach me. (It was just too awkward for everyone.) It can be difficult seeing other’s joy…especially when it comes naturally. That used to be me, too.
That first year was filled with learning how to process everything...I'm still learning how to process in our 3rd year. No matter what someone would say to me, I would usually take it the wrong way. If they said something well-meaning yet very hurtful, I'd say nothing and save the meltdown for later...making a note in my mental notebook to avoid them from now on because they're not "good" for me.
I even came to a point where I wouldn't smile at others. That’s what everyone wanted to see, and when they saw Wendy smiling, she must be approachable today. It feels like everyone's holding their breath waiting for Wendy to be over it. I remember someone approaching me one day and commented, "I see a smile on your face today." My response was, "I bought a new can of paint." Then I walked away.
Grief is definitely a constant process. Every moment of every day is unpredictable...even years later. I continue to be thankful for the experience God has blessed our family with...no matter how much I continue to hurt and struggle. God is good!
No comments:
Post a Comment