What is Grief?

I experienced the unexpected loss of my mom and quasi-expected loss of my dog in the span of 8 days.  The journey I’ve been on since Mom passed away has been a tough one.  I’m no expert on grief; in fact, you may find this to simply be more of a journal entry than anything coach-y.  And read on if there’s even the slightest chance of a little nugget for you.

My mom was not often a happy woman.  I have no doubt – NONE – that she loved me and my sister very much.  I think she loved my dad in her own way, too, but that’s a story for another day.  My mom struggled with depression, anxiety, and fear my whole life and it colored literally everything she did and said.  When I try to think about a happy memory of Mom, I struggle to think of anything where she is joyful and full of life.  I often felt abandoned and emotionally responsible for Mom.  There’s a whole lot of therapy there to unpack.  Seriously. 

Yet, Mom loved her job as a preschool teacher – working with young children and building their confidence and starting their learning was so much fun for her.  She thoroughly enjoyed getting to know each student and their personalities that were starting to emerge and helping shape their learning experiences.  Mrs. May was a wonderful preschool teacher.

My dog, Roxie, was one of my soulmates.  I adopted her when she was 9 months old from the then-Dumb Friends League in August 2010 – right after I had moved back to Colorado after graduate school.  Boy, that dog stole my heart the minute she jumped up on my lap and licked my nose.  She knew me on a level I didn’t know was possible; she stuck with me through all the moving and all the struggles with my work.  It was as close to unconditional love as I’ve ever experienced.  She lived to be 15 – and a heck of a lot longer than we thought she would when she was diagnosed with liver cancer back in the fall of 2024.  She sure held on, waiting for me to be ready to let go.  I wasn’t ready – I’m not sure I would ever be ready – and it was the most responsible thing I could do for her.

Throughout these last 8 days, I’ve spent a lot of time giving myself space.  Space to feel what is and what will no longer be.  I had a day when I woke up and I literally felt empty – a feeling I was entirely unfamiliar and uncomfortable with, being that I feel very deeply and intensely almost all of the time.  This whole concept of giving myself space to feel is kind of a new thing for me in an act of building self-trust and self-love.  For those of us for whom self-trust and self-love are new and/or difficult concepts, giving ourselves the space to feel our emotions, even when they’re hard and intense and uncomfortable and even painful allows our Self to feel heard and seen.  The emotions don’t go away when we ignore them; they tend to leak out in unexpected and untimely ways.

I’ve also found setting boundaries is important.  I love caring for others…scratch that.  I don’t know that I “love” it so much as that is my default.  I’m incredibly good at it (long practiced) and I am often so good at it, that I ignore myself in the process.  When others wanted to dump their grief on me and my dad and my sister, setting the boundary of limiting visits and saying no when we didn’t want company because we are working our way through our own grief has been incredibly empowering.  To be a clearing space for others, I need to have cleared my space.  I can’t clear my space when I’m trying to please everyone else and give them space without giving it to myself.

I titled this post “What is Grief?” – so what is it?  I don’t really know that I have a good answer.  I could Google the definition and give you that.  I could look up the therapeutic definition and give you that.  And at the end of the day, grief is deeply personal and individual.  It can be all-consuming, or it can feel empty.  It can be delighting in the Essence and Self of others.  It can be recognizing that they were human, too, and dealt with their own challenges and Survival Mechanisms.  It can be collaborative, and it can be personal.  It can be supportive, and it can feel incredibly lonely.

I’m in the early stages of my grief; it likely won’t be the last blog post you see about these losses.  For me, grief is hard.  It is feeling intensely so many feelings.  It’s feeling lost and broken.  It’s feeling helpless and bereft.  I love rollercoasters, but I want off of this one.  One of my bosses said something eloquently that I have long believed – “Death isn’t hard for the dead; it’s hard for the living” and she is absolutely correct.  It’s those of us left behind that deal with all the memories and feelings that hurt, the LOSS of something – be it companionship or a confidante or a friend or something else – that is challenging for those of us left behind. 

The best advice I can give someone in the early stages of their own grief?  Give it space.  Whether it’s crying or screaming or punching a pillow or going to a Break Room (a place where you go to break things – IYKYK) or talking with a trusted friend who will LISTEN and share your grief with you.  And do not allow others to commandeer your space for their own grief; when you’re ready, you can be a clearing space for others’ grief.  And take care of yourself in this time first.  It sounds incredibly selfish (maybe it is) and that’s not always a bad thing. 

I love my mom and my Puppy Friend Roxie.  I miss them.  And there’s space for that today.