How a Therapist is Navigating her Grief
Fumbling through the Dark with a Tiny Flashlight of Hope
Nothing can prepare you for grief and loss, even when you are a therapist, even when you have access to dozens of resources and books. In the days after my dad’s death, I knew I would need at least a tiny flashlight to accompany me through this dark terrain of grief. One month in, here are the resources and things, aka tiny flashlights, I have used so far to cope with the pain.
Don’t be afraid to touch the grief is a mantra I repeat to myself over and over. As I wrote in this essay, I knew that I wanted to feel as close to my Dad as possible as I began grieving him. “Don’t be afraid to touch the grief” found its way into my mind as I started figuring out how to live and work and grieve and be a semi-functioning human. I knew I would need to “touch the grief” throughout the day - while on break between clients, driving to pick up my kids, stirring dinner, running the trails - I wanted to remind myself not to be afraid of meeting it in the small moments of life.
Grief is like a croissant: My lovely therapist, Liza, shared the croissant metaphor with me during our last session. Ruth Chan shares her conception of how we integrate grief into our lives on
’s blog, Cup of Jo, with beautiful illustrations like this.
Tell yourself the story over and over. I love a good This American Life podcast, Ira Glass is so curious and earnest. When I googled “grief podcast” and this one showed up, it felt right. It features Rob Delaney, who lost his young son to cancer years ago and wrote a book about his experience. While the type of loss was quite different from mine, the content was helpful. Here are a few lines that stuck with me:
Rob Delaney: So that when the incredibly intense storms of sadness and anger and confusion would come up, I didn't try to manage them or push them away, but rather to let them move through me as they needed to do. I repeat to myself the story of my son's death in very simple terms of his illness and death. And I say them out loud to myself when I'm walking around, walking down the street. My baby boy got sick. We took a while trying to figure out what it was, went to a lot of doctors. They found out what it was. It was very bad. It got worse and worse. And then he died. And he's dead. I can't even believe what I just said, you know?
Ira Glass: I know talking to you, the thing that I didn't understand before we started talking is just like, oh, you have to keep looking at it because it doesn't seem real. It's just hard to believe it's real.
Rob Delaney: Yeah. I mean, for me, it's as unreal as if the Martians landed on my front lawn.
Read beautiful poetry: One kind friend, (hi Chris!) who also lost her Dad recently, shared a beautiful poem On the death of the beloved: Blessing and Funeral Poem by John O'Donohue. Below is the last gorgeous stanza that resonated with me:
To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.
Ask for specific help! I have struggled to do this one consistently, to be honest. The help I have asked for is to talk about my Dad and how he quickly deteriorated, in an effort to make sense of it all.
Let others care for and support me. I sobbed when I saw the plant my friends sent for the funeral. I shuddered when I got the email that they organized a meal train. I stared with disbelief at the tree they purchased for me to plant in our yard to honor him. Allowing myself to be supported and loved in these ways directly conflicts with how I see myself - unworthy and undeserving of others’ love and attention. I hope this experience will (finally) allow me to see how deeply others can see my value and that I deserve to be cared for in this way.
A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. I checked this one out from the library and it is well loved. I am curious how others who read this same book are doing on their grief journey. My Dad loved C.S. Lewis, particularly his book, Mere Christianity.
Be compassionate with the folks figuring out how to comfort you. Some folks in this world don’t know how to read a damn room. There were days when my family and I were gathered in the hospital or hospice room and visitors would make themselves at home or say things that were out of touch and thoughtless. After my Dad’s death, they would show up unannounced at our house with too much food. I try to remember that this experience could be uncomfortable for them and they may struggle to know how to help. People’s lack of self-awareness got the best of me at times and I let it color some of the time I had with my Dad. Looking back, I wish I had thrown more compassion their way.
*I acknowledge that my frustration at others showing up to see my Dad and support us after his death may sound ungrateful. My Dad was a popular dude and had worked as a pharmacist in our small town for 50+ years. Therefore, a lot of people knew him and wanted to see him. However, after my sister and I would drive 5+ hours to see him and my Mom, we just wanted quiet, peaceful, uninterrupted time with him. Entertaining others we barely knew, hearing about their son’s child’s soccer tournament was not how we wanted to spend our energy. Which leads me to my next reminder…
Set the bleepin boundaries. I did not know initially what boundaries I would need around this experience, but as soon as I did, I did my best to assert them (even with a shaky voice and feeling like I might puke). Several times throughout his illness, I put signs on the door asking visitors to stay for 5 minutes. On his last day with us, I put up a sign noting that only immediate family was welcome in the room.
Keep my routine and self care practices going. A few things that keep me sane are my routine and moving my body every single day. I needed familiarity and predictability and these things give me such during this weird time.
Grief Podcasts: The Science and Process of Healing from Grief. Shared by the lovely
, was the first podcast and resource I tackled to help me in the days after. (While I know there’s a ton of controversy around this guy, the podcast was incredibly insightful). I also really enjoyed ’s Ted Talk on how she coped with many losses all at once. She reminds us that we don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it.Grieving is Loving: Compassionate Words for Bearing the Unbearable by Joanne Cacciatore, PhD. My sweet business partner shared this with me and I am so glad she did. It includes Dr. Cacciatore’s thoughts as well as quotations about healing, grief, and death. One of my favorites she shares in the book is from Rumi: The healing from the pain is in the pain.
Grief, with no fixed expiration date, is an inescapable truth of the human condition. Grief, by its very nature, is labyrinthine and enigmatic; its implications are emotional, physical, social, and interpersonal, economic, and spiritual, and existential. - Joanne Cacciatore, Ph.D
Keeping up with my own therapy: I have seen my therapist Liza since June of last year so by the time shit hit the fan, she was well versed on my messiness. Our rapport is wonderful and I trust in how she challenges me during this time.
Finding my Dad in random places: When one of my good friends, Kelly, lost her Dad, she told me that she saw him when a cardinal showed up. I learned that this is a common experience for many. Recently, the cardinals have been POPPING OFF in our backyard. They chatter and sing all damn day.
Kelly also shared this poem with me, a reminder that time changes nothing and we will always miss our person.
Resources I am looking forward to checking out:
My colleague shared that he has relied on this fella, Francis Weller, to offer him guidance and peace as he manages the loss of his parents. Weller also has a conversation with Anderson Cooper that is worth checking out.
My cousin shared this book with my Mom, which helped her understand her grief after losing her Mom (my aunt), only months before my Dad died. My Mom bought copies for my siblings and me.
As the first Father’s Day, birthday, and holidays pass without my Dad, I know I will continue to seek comfort in resources that help me understand this grief and this unbearable loss. Admittedly, I am not looking forward to these days as markers of time that he is indeed gone.
If you have other resources that have guided you during this dark time, please share! And remember that all grief is not about death. Grief includes losing a pet (aka your fur child), friendship, jobs, and certainty. We are all in this together no matter the loss.
Next up: part two on how to support hurting/grieving people! I have learned a lot! Check out my first installment below.
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Sending you love and I feel this deeply.
all of this <3