Stealth Grief

I’m sitting in one of my favorite restaurants buttering up a piece of crusty bread, fresh from the oven, and BAM, it hits me like a tidal wave, a sob from somewhere deep in my soul. I dart for the bathroom slam the door and let out a long, animal-like sound. When I stopped crying I was relieved that no one had come into the women’s room while I was there so I won’t have to explain my wails or red eyes. This is what I call ‘stealth grief.’ You’re minding your own business, going about your normal life, and all of the sudden the pain rises up begging for attention and relief.

There isn’t much you can do about it but I’ve learned that acceptance is crucial. Pretending my pain isn’t real or that my tears are inconvenient won’t help with the process of healing. It’s also important for me to embrace the natural consequences of loss – feeling pain. I’m a person who values being strong. Grief isn’t an experience one can have without feeling our own fragility and mortality. The sooner I accept this truth, the easier it will me to pass through the dark hours of grieving. The sooner I recognize that the feeling of loss will always be with me, the less likely I am to push the feelings of sadness away.