And like a tsunami, grief rolls in rather unexpected. When it does, I have found that there are some things I do not need.
- I do not need a swim coach giving me instructions from the safety of higher ground.
- I do not need a cheerleader yelling pithy cheers from the sidelines of my struggle for survival.
- I do not need a pundit evaluating my circumstances and pointing out what caused my tsunami.
- I do not need a "Monday morning quarterback" telling me how I could have played the game of life better to avoid the tsunami.
- I do not need a voyeur drawn to the spectacle of human suffering, gawking at my struggle.
- I need someone who will jump into the muck with me and just be present.
- I need strong arms that surround me and reassure me that if I get tired of hanging on, they will hang on for me.
- I need someone near to whisper in my ear that this will pass; that I will survive.
- I need someone who will cry with me--who will join my heart in grief.
- I need someone who will tenderly clothe me with love, hope and strength.
|The wail of grief|
- Is it risky to offer one's self to another during a tsunami of grief? Yes.
- Will it hurt? Yes.
- Will it be difficult? Yes.
- Will it be time-consuming? Yes.
- Will it take us out of our comfort zone? Yes.
- Will we weep? Yes.
- Will we be changed? Yes.
- Will it make a difference to the one grieving? Absolutely, yes.