Loss as a part of life...

My step-pop died last Thursday, 5/11/17. I called him "step-pop" as he and mom never married, though they were together for 32 years (she said that my father would turn over in his grave if she lost her WWII era widow's benefits by marrying again). Jer was such a good guy - a true character in the best sense of the word. And today I get to sit with my grief. I get to show up for Jer's son and daughter. I get to be present to my memories and feel gratitude for all that he was in my life, and in my mom's.

When I was in treatment, the counselors insisted that any loss I'd experienced while under the influence would need to be worked through again in sobriety. I thought, "what do they know?" thinking of the buckets of tears I'd shed for my father, who'd died five years earlier. But there is a difference between grief experienced while drunk, loaded, or hung over, and that which is experienced in the cold light of day. About two years into my recovery, another person's experience of loss triggered that deep well of missing my dad and I wept for him, for all that was left unsaid, for my too young/unskilled/fearful way of barely showing up when he was sick. I've cried for my dad - that deep longing for my father - many times over the years. I've written letters that I've burned, or sent into the ocean, expressing all that I never could say while he was alive. Those counselors were right after all.

And I've learned more about grief in the years since: That it works out better in the long run if I allow the feelings and express my pain as it comes up vs running away or shutting down the emotion (maybe you know the feeling - the tears begin to rise, almost from my chest, and if I take a deep breath at just the right moment, they get stuffed back down). Believe me, I've tried the caffeine cure, the new relationship distraction, uber-housecleaning - all of which are effective in the short run to squash those pesky feelings, but don't allow the natural process of ebb and flow. I'm reminded of the quote from Alanon literature - "Being human is not a character defect," and grieving is definitely part of the human experience.

What I've also learned about grief is that one loss attaches to another and to another. Jer's death brings up the loss of my mother. Her death triggered a re-grieving of my father, and so on. I used to think that meant that I was holding on unnecessarily, but what I believe now is that I love deeply, and that my love is interconnected so that one loss helps me remember the love I felt for others who have gone.

I've also learned that anniversaries are potentially tender spots - anniversaries of birthdays, of the person's passing, holidays (hello, Mother's Day). I didn't know that until I heard someone talking about it in a meeting many years ago. I can truly say that everything I've learned about healthy grieving has been since I got sober, and I offer a sincere "thank you" to all who've shared their stories over the years.

Today I am sad for the loss of my step-pop. Sad, but not in crisis. That comes from you in the rooms who show me how to walk through pain. It also comes from walking through my own pain over the years. Each experience - loss, joy, sorrow, gratitude - prepares me for the next step. Thank you, Jer, for all that you were and all that you are in my heart and the hearts of those who miss you.

While it's never comfortable, how has your experience of grief and loss changed over the years?