Searching For Joy

Grief, Play, and Religion

Joy is really hard to muster when we’re grieving.

So is smiling. And if we let ourselves feel any joy, we then feel incredibly guilty for taking pleasure in something that our loved ones no longer can. In the beginning of grief, it’s a struggle just to get through the day.

Comfort in a Time of Grief

There is little comfort when we’re deep in grief. When we’re done actively grieving, it’s different. But not completely, and it comes so slowly.

It will never be all right with me that Evelyn suffered for years with physical aches and pains, worked hard to recover and was almost back to full health when she died of an unknown heart problem. She was only in her forties when she died. I was bitter about that then, and I’m bitter about that now.

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            (A version of this was first published by Refuge in Grief.)

Balancing Grief

Moving From the Rollercoaster to the Teeter-totter

Riding a rollercoaster is a lot of fun. But not for hours every day, and not if we didn’t want to go but wanted to stay curled up in a dark, still room.

Admittedly, in the early days and weeks of grief we don’t have a choice of rides. Grief takes us where it wants to go. It also tears through our hearts like a heavy-hoofed bison. We can’t stop the thoughts of grief from churning in our heads 24 hours a day, and we’re worn out by the effort to make sense of what will probably never make sense.

* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *