It would be easier if there were rules. For me, anyway. Or maybe not. I'm not sure about much anymore. Grief has no recipe, no instruction although many have tried to give me the correct timeline and guide for how to do this journey properly. Suggested books, gifts of workbooks, planned steps...and I guess at first I was excited to have a plan. I'm a type A, oldest; following steps and guided instruction is my thing.
Until I realized there are no rules when it comes to grief. Yes there are "stages," maybe, if you can recognize them when you're in them and you go through all five of them. There are plenty of resources, definitely. But, everyone's personal grief journey is drastically different because each person has a separate relationship to their lost. I tried following the proper plan. I was hopeful that it would draw this process to a swift, thorough close and we could all go on with our happy lives knowing that I did the hard work. I put the time in, went through all five stages, finished the workbook and completed the journey.
But, I'm learning this journey is more complicated than that. I have my own grief journey workbook to write, and it's not for anyone else. I find great comfort in talking to other friends who have had similar losses, but my grief process may not work for them. Can we gather together, talk about our feelings, empathize with each other? Or course! I want that desperately. But, I will not push my personal grief journey upon them, as if we all have the same missing piece from our hearts. Theirs may be deeper, wider, more shallow, or obtuse. Mine might be fresher, more razor sharp.
In the beginning, to borrow an illustration from a friend, I thought my canvas of grief would look precise, all colors would be coordinating and of course, stay in the lines. Almost like a paint by number. But, now almost six months later, I can see that my piece is dark, abstract, messy and definitely outside of the lines. I feel like painting far less than I expected I would. I thought I would compose this grief canvas in a class with other artists, but I find myself creating this personal masterpiece much on my own, silently, away from the comforts of family and home.
I'm trying to be okay with breaking the rules. It feels scary, very uncertain and unfamiliar. What if I don't do this the right way? What if I miss a step and find myself having to go through it all over again in one year, five years, thirty years? I guess, it doesn't have to mean I didn't do it right the first time. It could just mean that my heart needed to back to the studio and paint again.
