Grief Actually Ends and that’s Okay

I’m so sick and tired of the narrative that you never get over loss and that you carry it with you forever, as described in the picture below. It’s a lie that holds people back from moving forward with their life after loss. You are NOT an object. You can act. You can decide. You have the power to do for yourself what you CHOOSE to do.

Is there any other set of circumstances where we tell people that they can’t figure things out and start a new chapter? Do we tell people that lost a job that they’ll carry this loss around and never find employment again? To we tell divorced folks they can never move forward and be happy? When your child goes through a difficult time in school or life do we tell them they’ve got to carry this around for the rest of their lives? Of course not! So why do we do it with those who have lost a spouse, a child, a parent, or some other loved one?

We learn, we grow, and we heal from our experiences. Loss is no different. It’s doesn’t have to be a burden that we carry throughout our life. You can free yourself from your burden of grief and loss and be happy once again IF you want to move forward and do the hard work it takes to achieve it.

So next time someone tells you that grief never ends (and that’s okay), don’t buy into the lifetime of sadness they’re selling. Instead roll up your sleeves and use your God-given agency to move forward and do the work to lighten your burden. You, not loss, is in charge of your life. Move forward, act, and choose to be happy.

The End of Grief, Part 1

Grief is NOT something that you have to live with for the rest of your life. Grief can come to a happy end. In the first of a two part series, I share stories of those who have overcome grief and why expecting people to grieve forever sets them up for a lifetime of misery.

Chrissy Teigen, Loss, and Our Collective Inhumanity

Yesterday Chrissy Teigen posted a photo of her sitting in a hospital bed after miscarrying her 18-week old baby, Jack, and the internet exploded. Some accused Teigen of milking her tragedy to increase her social media following. Others said she was a hero for expressing her loss and grief. Others wondered why anyone would share, let alone take, a photo of such a personal, tragic moment.

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As someone who has lost a child and is tired of the continued divisiveness that’s encouraged by social media, I will say this: Losing a child is the worst thing anyone can experience. It doesn’t matter if it was a miscarriage, a stillbirth, a child who died soon after birth, or any other age. It sucks more than words can describe. Losing a child is something I’d never wish on anyone for any reason. My daughter, Hope, was born nearly 3 months early and died 9 days after her birth. That was 18 years ago, and I still feel an occasional flash of pain from losing her.

Social media wasn’t a thing in 2001 so I have no idea how I would have announced Hope’s death. Maybe I would have included a photo of her. Maybe it would have just been a couple of sentences. Maybe I would have let someone else post about it because taking Hope off life support was such a gut-wrenching experience that I may not have had the strength to do it. I do know that if I lost Hope in 2020, whatever I shared probably would have generated a similar reaction as Teigen (albeit on a far smaller scale).

One of many problems with social media is that it’s made everyone think they’re mind readers. For example, someone posts their support for Donald Trump and those who disagree accuse her of supporting white supremacy. Someone posts their support for Joe Biden and she’s accused of being a socialist. Teigen posts a photo of her grief and millions of people can suddenly read her mind and know her motivations for announcing it.

The truth is I have no idea why Teigen posted the photo and accompanying message and you don’t either. I hope it was because it was a sincere expression of grief and pain she’s going through and not to increase her social media presence. (If she posted it for likes or to grow her audience then I have absolutely no sympathy for her situation.)

Sadly, social media has become performance art making it nearly impossible to tell who sincerely sharing something and who’s just looking for more likes, shares, and clicks. The varied response to Teigen’s announcement and photo proves it.

The only person who knows why Teigen posted the photo and announcement is Teigen herself. And since none of us can read her mind maybe the best course of action is to either assume the best of intentions or say (or post) nothing in response. (Side note: maybe give your social media friends the same benefit of the doubt when the post something about politics or anything else you disagree with. Always attributing the worst motives to those who disagree might make you feel awesome but it comes at the cost of your soul.)

As for taking photos of such personal, tragic moments, back in 2001 I wasn’t happy that my parents took a lot of pictures of Hope’s brief life and funeral. I had so much going on that documenting the event was the last thing I cared about. But after life calmed down I was grateful for the photos. And though I doubt I would have shared them on social media, they brought me much comfort when I was in a state of mind to appreciate them.

Finally, If I had the chance to say anything to Teigen, it would be this: I’m sorry for the unexpected loss of your son, Jack. I hope that you can reach a point where you can find peace and understanding from this event. I’m praying for you and hope that God will give you the strength to move forward one day, one hour, and one minute at a time.

How to Write a (Grief) Memoir

Since this post is on memoirs, a bit of shameless self-promotion: I’m teaching a memoir writing class in Ephraim, Utah on April 9. Don’t have full details as to where the class will be taught but it is part of Write Here in Ephraim Conference that will include many other wonderful authors and presenters. Stay tuned for details. If you’re in the area and want to know the ins and outs of memoir writing, I’d love to have you attend.

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Ever since The New York Times slammed Joyce Carol Oates memoir, A Widow’s Story, there’s been uproar in the widow(er) community about the review with many widow(er)s saying that the reviewer just doesn’t “get” what’s it’s like to be a widow. I haven’t read JCO’s memoir so I can’t say whether or not the book is worthy of the criticism it received. Thanks to a reader’s tip, I read an excerpt in The New Yorker. Though I was impressed with JCO’s prose, I found the telling of the last week of her husband’s life and first few hours of widowhood similar to what you might find on a recent widow blog. And, in my mind, that’s a problem.

Blogs aren’t memoirs. They have a different purpose and audience. When done well, blogs are vignettes that focus on one moment and give the reader some insight into that incident or person. Memoirs have more meat. Instead of focusing on a day or special moment, modern memoirs usually focus on a major event (or series of events) where the author learns something from the experience and shares it with the reader.

Maybe when I read JCO’s work in its entirety, I’ll feel different. But the little bit I read seemed like something lifted from a personal journal. It’s interesting if you know the person but utterly lacking the depth necessary to give the reader insight into losing a spouse. (I’m going to order the book later this week. However if any readers know of any more online excerpts, please email me or leave a note in the comment section below.)

So what does it take to write a good memoir? Five things immediately come to mind. (For those looking write a memoir on a different subject, just replace grief theme with whatever the crux of your experience is about. The suggestions below still apply.)

  1. Your story needs to be unique. You lost a spouse. So what. Millions of people lose a spouse every year. What makes your spouse’s death and your journey so different that other people will want to read it? You aren’t the first person to walk this path. To get the attention of agents, publishers, and readers your experience has to something unique about their story that makes it stand out from the crowd.
  2. You need to offer new insight on the subject. Many books have been written on losing a spouse. Most of them might as well be carbon copies of each other. What has your experience/journey taught you that may not be known by those who have written or walked down the same path? For example, most widow(er)s learn that life goes on and they can be happy again after losing a spouse. While that insight may be new to the writer, it’s not an earth shattering concept to most people. To make it worth the reader’s time, you need to offer some insight or unique perspective into death, grieving, moving on, etc. that other people may not have noticed.
  3. You need to be honest. With memoirs—especially grief memoirs—authors have a tendency to turn themselves look like a tragic hero for going through the experience. They don’t want to make themselves appear human. Big mistake. Even widow(er)s have flaws and make bad decisions. You need to appear just as human as the next person or the reader will feel you’ve been less than truthful and will blow your credibility. With a memoir you never want the reader to feel that way about you.
  4. You need to know how to tell a story. Good writers know what events to include and what events to leave out of their memoirs. For example, there’s no need to include the funeral of the late spouse unless something happened there that’s important to the story or can offer the reader some bit of insight into yourself or your culture that can’t come out in another part of the story. Otherwise you’re just filling up the book with pointless information and wasting the reader’s time. Good writers also know how to make quotidian events come alive and paint a vivid picture in the reader’s head. (Side note: This is one thing JCO is very good at.) They know how to take an event like death and widow(er)hood and make it interesting to the reader instead of it simply feeling like they’re reading something they’ve read a hundred times before. Being able to do this is a very difficult talent to master.
  5. Your book needs to appeal to a wide audience. Good memoirs will appeal to their target audience. Great memoirs appeal to a wider audience. If you write a grief memoir and get positive feedback from other widow(er)s, you’ve probably done a decent job writing what it’s like to lose a spouse. However, when you start getting good reviews and feedback from those who have no clue what it’s like to lose a spouse, then you know you’ve written a compelling memoir with the depth and insight needed (see #2) to get people to look at the world I a different way. These are the kinds of memoirs that agents and publishers are interested in.

When I do get around to reading, JCO’s memoir, the above five points are the standard I'll review it against. Once it arrives via Amazon, it goes to the top of my reading stack.

Up with Grief

Up: Carl & Ellie

Note: This post was written for and posted on the Open to Hope site. You can see the original post here.

It's hard to find movies for adults that adequately deal with the death of a spouse and putting one's life back together. Fortunately, one of the movies nominated for the Best Picture Oscar does a great job of dealing with the subjects of death, grief, and moving on better than any other film in recent memory—and it's target audience is kids.

The movie? Up.

In the first 20 minutes of the film we see Carl Fredricksen as a boy meeting his future wife, Ellie. When they grow up, they both want to become explorers and journey to faraway lands. Ellie shows Carl her adventure book that contains a few notes and drawings of things she's done. Most of the pages in the book are blank, and Ellie tells Carl that she's going to fill the rest of book with photos and of all the exciting things she's going to do.

Then the audience is taken on a short silent movie journey of their life. They get married and start careers. They decide to have a family only to find out she's infertile. Though the news is tough to swallw, they both decide to keep working and save their pennies for a trip to Paradise Falls in South America. But as the years pass, they keep raiding their savings to pay for car repairs and other life emergencies. They grow old, and one day Carl realizes that they've never taken the trip they dreamed about. He throws caution to the wind and buys tickets to Paradise Falls. Only they never make the trip. As he's about to surprise his wife with the plane tickets, she falls ill and dies.

The next time we see Carl he's a grumpy widower. Fed up with life and facing a court-ordered placement in a retirement home, he decides he's had enough. As a former balloon salesman, he rigs his Victorian house with thousands of balloons and launches it into the sky, determined to finally visit Paradise Falls. The only complication to his trip is that Russell, a neighborhood kid and wilderness explorer, has unwittingly come along for the ride too.

During the journey to the falls, the Victorian house becomes the symbol for Ellie. Not only does the house contain photographs and other reminders of Ellie and Carl's life together but, at various points in the journey, Carl looks up at the house talks to it, wondering what Ellie would say if only she were there with him.

As he travels with Russell, the house becomes more of a hindrance than a help. Carl's so determined to take the house to Paradise Falls that he's unable to form a relationship with Russell or even think about getting them both home safely. At times Carl seems more concerned about damage the house receives than the danger Russell and himself find themselves in.

Carl doesn't realize how much the house is holding him back until he finds himself browsing through Ellie's adventure book. As he turns the pages, he's surprised to discover that the blank pages she showed him years ago are filled with pictures of his and Ellie's life together. Suddenly Carl realizes that even though he and Ellie were never able to visit the Paradise Falls together, they did have a wonderful, fulfilling life as husband and wife. It doesn't matter that they never got to visit the falls together—the real adventure in life was the years spent with Ellie.

Armed with this new insight Carl is able to literally let go of the house in order to get he and Russell home safely. As a result, he's able to move on with his life and start a new and fulfilling chapter as a father for Russell. It's a message that anyone who's struggling to move on after the death of a spouse could use.

Don't let this beautifully animated film trick you into thinking it's for kids only. There's plenty in Up to keep kids entertained but with its unique plot and adept handling of more “grown up” issues, this life-affirming film deserves the Best Picture of the year award and is the new high water mark in movies that deal with grief and the loss of a spouse.

Widower Friends

Widower Needs A Friend

In the comment section of 10 Dating Tips for Widows and Widowers, Tyler writes:

I have spent a lot of time online getting information on grieving, etc. After a wonderful marriage of 21 years, I have found myself as a widower of a big six weeks. NO-I am not ready to move on! That is a long way off. I happened upon this site as I was searching other information. As I have read these articles, however, a question has been raised in my head.

I understand that the lonliness [sic] and emptiness is a big part of the grieving process. Is longing for a friend to talk to necessarily a bad thing? As noted in some of your articles, I understand that widowers are no different than other singles in how we need to treat women. (Quite frankly I am shocked that this would have to be said.)

As with many single people who are not looking to become involved but want to be active rather than festering at home, is there an appropriate way to approach this situation? Looking at it from the opposite point of view, if I were a woman approached by a guy like me wanting a "friendship" after 3-4-5 months of widowerhood, I would probably run away as fast as I could!

In my case there will absolutely be no intimacy until marriage, so that is not the issue. I would also never even approach someone even as a friend without my children's knowledge and approval.

Thoughts about approaching a "friend"?

I highlight this comment because Tyler’s comment reflects a lot of the emotional state recent widowers (including myself many, many years ago) find themselves in: they’re not ready to date or even form a serious relationship but they want to reach out to someone (preferably female) who they can talk to and connect with. Even if they aren’t intending to get serious with someone, they’re trying to connect on an emotional level that’s bound to lead to some kind of emotional/romantic attachment on his part or the woman he becomes friends with. The result is going to be an emotional disaster for one or both people involved.

So for women who are dating widowers keep Tyler’s emotional state in mind as you start a relationship with a widower—especially a recent one. Yes, some widowers are ready to move on but a lot of them are looking to rebuild the emotional connection they had before their wife passed away. This means you need to keep your eyes wide open when you date a widower. And if you feel the widower’s not ready to move on, don’t be afraid to end the relationship and let him know that you don’t feel he’s ready for a serious relationship.

For widowers who feel like Tyler, I can understand the need to talk to someone about what you’re going through. And if you don’t have a friend that has lost a spouse, finding someone who can relate to what you’re going through can be very, very difficult. That being said, if you don’t feel that any of your current friends are the sounding board you need, get some kind of counseling. Sure, it costs money, but you can get stuff off your chest without the risk of becoming emotionally involved with someone. Friendships become strong when they’re based on enough common interests to grow and develop. Loneliness and a broken heart always make for a poor friendship foundation.

Update:Due to some comments on this post, here's the response I sent to the poster:

What is the purpose of this “friend?” you seek? Are you looking for someone you can talk to about your grief or someone you can just hang out with occasionally?

In either case, why does this “friend” have to be a woman? Don’t you have any guy friends now that you can hang around with on occasion?

Instead of seeking out an individual person, why not join a club or some other group where there are a lot of people and start making friends that way.

Friendships develop when there are enough common interests to build something on it. Loneliness and a broken heart always make for a poor foundation to find a friend.