Jody, this is so gorgeously written and insightful and achingly true. Grief is one of those experiences that there is no way out but through and even then you’re not out. Thank you for eloquently enlightening us…will be passing this on to some friends that need this and keeping it in my pocket for reference ❤️
I love your statement that “grief is the work of love. And just as we are forever changed by love, so it is with its shadow twin, grief.” I took on the responsibility of caregiving for my 100-year-old grandmother in 2020 (since we had to temporarily lay off her caregiver til there was a COVID vaccine. She was married to my grandfather for 64 years, and yet he passed away in 2005. She still grieves, which is not too surprising. But what is, is how she has kept going all these years without him. She’s now 102, and reading your essay further helps me understand what she’s been going through, which is helpful as I’m wrapping up a memoir about my bond with my grandparents.
This is such a beautiful piece on so many levels Jody, I see myself there in many parts, the ones that are healed and the new emotions that have surfaced recently. Thank you for seeing and sharing what is in our hearts. 🙏💫
Childlessness in older age (I’m 68) is still difficult for me. Especially now as I hear in social media and other of women looking forward to becoming grandmothers. It just feels as if the blows keep coming. Somehow us childless women have to work that much harder to find our purpose in life and it’s hard. Though having taken on a puppy a couple of years ago has helped. She is the centre of my life and my furry baby. Thank you Jody from the bottom of my heart for setting up the online community for us women.
I always say, "Grief doesn't get 'better'; it just gets 'different."
Also, "Grief is grief is grief is grief." It's not a mental illness. There are no right or wrong ways to go through it, and the ONLY way out is through (although you never really get "out" of grief).
Thanks for sharing this Jody. I had two stillborn babies many years ago, either side of my now teen girl (I am so grateful to have her). The grief and memories from loosing each of my other two daughters is part of my every day, even though it was a long time ago. Most people do not realise that the grief is ongoing, although less terrifying now, it shapes everything in my life. It is disenfranchised. I carved a different life for myself than I’d hoped for that I shared in a recent post which like yours seems to resonate with so many. ✨💛
When I was working on my MA about grief in fiction, I came across an idea which crystallized for me how it feels: grief is constructing a new relationship with the person who has died. The relationship still exists, but not as it has been.
This is beautifully written and really echoes my own experiences with grief. I always thought of grief as an emotion, something to be felt. But it wasn't until experiencing my Dad's death that I realised it's much more than that, it's something that you live with rather than 'work through'
So insightful. ''now it’s more likely to be a mother out shopping with her adult daughter that might prick me with a pang of homesickness for a place I’ve never been''. This is my experience too and I love the paradox.
Once again, Jody, your writing resonates with me and rings true of my life experience with grief for the past couple of years. Few and far between are the ones who allow us to grieve openly for as long as we might need or want .. not to mention societies. The conversation stops. The imagery in your words is exsquisite:
"....your grief might not be something you want to fully get over because, at its core, it contains the essence of what’s been lost, compacted under unbearable pressure into a jewel buried deep in your heart"
and will touch many. It has me. With all of our individual versions of grief.
Thank you once again, Jody. Your truthfulness, emotional intelligence, vulnerability and courage are such a beacon in this often emotionally blinkered world. Love to you xx
I feel like this could have been a conversation we just had, Jodi. Thank you for writing it. I hope many, many, people read it and take heart, or open their hearts to others.
Great pic x
Jody, this is so gorgeously written and insightful and achingly true. Grief is one of those experiences that there is no way out but through and even then you’re not out. Thank you for eloquently enlightening us…will be passing this on to some friends that need this and keeping it in my pocket for reference ❤️
Today, a friend (who is aware of my involuntary childlessness) started her text with ‘Happy Mother’s Day’.
I stared at it and wondered for the umpteenth time in my two decades of going through this s**t how people can think we just get over it.
I love your statement that “grief is the work of love. And just as we are forever changed by love, so it is with its shadow twin, grief.” I took on the responsibility of caregiving for my 100-year-old grandmother in 2020 (since we had to temporarily lay off her caregiver til there was a COVID vaccine. She was married to my grandfather for 64 years, and yet he passed away in 2005. She still grieves, which is not too surprising. But what is, is how she has kept going all these years without him. She’s now 102, and reading your essay further helps me understand what she’s been going through, which is helpful as I’m wrapping up a memoir about my bond with my grandparents.
This is such a beautiful piece on so many levels Jody, I see myself there in many parts, the ones that are healed and the new emotions that have surfaced recently. Thank you for seeing and sharing what is in our hearts. 🙏💫
Childlessness in older age (I’m 68) is still difficult for me. Especially now as I hear in social media and other of women looking forward to becoming grandmothers. It just feels as if the blows keep coming. Somehow us childless women have to work that much harder to find our purpose in life and it’s hard. Though having taken on a puppy a couple of years ago has helped. She is the centre of my life and my furry baby. Thank you Jody from the bottom of my heart for setting up the online community for us women.
I always say, "Grief doesn't get 'better'; it just gets 'different."
Also, "Grief is grief is grief is grief." It's not a mental illness. There are no right or wrong ways to go through it, and the ONLY way out is through (although you never really get "out" of grief).
Beautiful and wise reflection.
Reminded me of this poem by Linda Pastan
The night I lost you
someone pointed me towards
the Five Stages of Grief
Go that way, they said,
it’s easy, like learning to climb
stairs after the amputation.
And so I climbed.
Denial was first.
I sat down at breakfast
carefully setting the table
for two. I passed you the toast—
you sat there. I passed
you the paper—you hid
behind it.
Anger seemed more familiar.
I burned the toast, snatched
the paper and read the headlines myself.
But they mentioned your departure,
and so I moved on to
Bargaining. What could I exchange
for you? The silence
after storms? My typing fingers?
Before I could decide, Depression
came puffing up, a poor relation
its suitcase tied together
with string. In the suitcase
were bandages for the eyes
and bottles of sleep. I slid
all the way down the stairs
feeling nothing.
And all the time Hope
flashed on and off
in defective neon.
Hope was a signpost pointing
straight in the air.
Hope was my uncle’s middle name,
he died of it.
After a year I am still climbing, though my feet slip
on your stone face.
The treeline
has long since disappeared;
green is a color
I have forgotten.
But now I see what I am climbing
towards: Acceptance
written in capital letters,
a special headline:
Acceptance
its name is in lights.
I struggle on,
waving and shouting.
Below, my whole life spreads its surf,
all the landscapes I’ve ever known
or dreamed of. Below
a fish jumps: the pulse
in your neck.
Acceptance. I finally
reach it.
But something is wrong.
Grief is a circular staircase.
I have lost you.
Thank you for putting the words to that which I can not express. Blessed Be
Thanks for sharing this Jody. I had two stillborn babies many years ago, either side of my now teen girl (I am so grateful to have her). The grief and memories from loosing each of my other two daughters is part of my every day, even though it was a long time ago. Most people do not realise that the grief is ongoing, although less terrifying now, it shapes everything in my life. It is disenfranchised. I carved a different life for myself than I’d hoped for that I shared in a recent post which like yours seems to resonate with so many. ✨💛
When I was working on my MA about grief in fiction, I came across an idea which crystallized for me how it feels: grief is constructing a new relationship with the person who has died. The relationship still exists, but not as it has been.
This is beautifully written and really echoes my own experiences with grief. I always thought of grief as an emotion, something to be felt. But it wasn't until experiencing my Dad's death that I realised it's much more than that, it's something that you live with rather than 'work through'
So insightful. ''now it’s more likely to be a mother out shopping with her adult daughter that might prick me with a pang of homesickness for a place I’ve never been''. This is my experience too and I love the paradox.
Once again, Jody, your writing resonates with me and rings true of my life experience with grief for the past couple of years. Few and far between are the ones who allow us to grieve openly for as long as we might need or want .. not to mention societies. The conversation stops. The imagery in your words is exsquisite:
"....your grief might not be something you want to fully get over because, at its core, it contains the essence of what’s been lost, compacted under unbearable pressure into a jewel buried deep in your heart"
and will touch many. It has me. With all of our individual versions of grief.
Thank you once again, Jody. Your truthfulness, emotional intelligence, vulnerability and courage are such a beacon in this often emotionally blinkered world. Love to you xx
I feel like this could have been a conversation we just had, Jodi. Thank you for writing it. I hope many, many, people read it and take heart, or open their hearts to others.