Every Wednesday

Every Wednesday, I will post something about grief. Sometimes it will be a reflection on an aspect of grief’s landscape. Now and then I will share from my own journey of grief, because in the sharing of our stories we find strength and build a community of people that support one another. To follow, please leave your email address.

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Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Listening to Anger


Journal entry 13

When I’m out on errands in the morning, Marie spots me in a store. A longtime friend, Marie lost her thirty-eight-year-old husband a couple of years ago. She asks what seems to be the question of the week for everyone.

“How are you doing with your anger?”

“I don’t think I’ve been angry enough,” I say feeling like this is a trick question. I still equate anger with being wrong, out of control, un-Christian. But I do feel anger, even if I can’t express it well, and if you aren’t allowed to be angry when you wife dies, then when can you? So I say, “I’ve felt terribly sad and disappointed.”

“I didn’t get angry,” Marie says, “until two years had passed. Then I was just furious with Don for dying of cancer. Not logical, but there it was. Hey, I finally bought his tombstone and had it set up, so I’m coming along!”

“Great, it’s nice to have something to look forward to,” I say, wondering both why it took her two years to get to this point, and if I was going to deal with grief that long. “I did share a brief bout of anger with Daniel a week ago, but that faded. It makes me feel better, though, knowing that anger will catch up with me. I was worried that I was blocking it.”


“You need to be emotionally selfish,” Marie reminds me, after chasing and getting little Donnie back from the next aisle. “You have the right to your feelings.”

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