Grief's Awful Impact

I never realized the death of my younger brother would hit me hard. But it did.

I saw him fight to breathe and then breathe his last. Every breath now is precious but also a fearful reminder that it will end. And then I will be dead, too. Having my oncologist say that if cancer returns to my body, it would be in my lungs doesn't help. And when I find it difficult to breathe or take a deep breath, I worry if it's a sign my lungs have been attacked.

Death and grief has had a strange effect on me (and maybe on you too) and so it was refreshing to read Sheryl Sandberg's story of grief after her husband suddenly passed away (her book is titled Option B). Here are some of her sentences I underlined because they resonated in me:

We naturally have tools to recover from loss and trauma.
Turning to God gives people a sense of being enveloped in loving arms that are eternal and ultimately strong. People need to know they are not alone.
My grief felt like deep, thick fog that constantly surrounded me.
It felt like there was a boot pushing down on his chest that made it impossible to get air into his lungs.
Expect it to be awful. Instead of being surprised by the negative feelings, I expected them.
. . . admitting that I could not control when sadness would come over me. I needed cry breaks too.
When I stopped fighting those moments, they passed more quickly.

Thanks Sheryl. I have God's presence and I have grief's presence when it comes to darken my emotions and choke my breath. I now expect and experience its visits, then I breathe in before moving on.

May your visits lessen and your stays be shorter, grief.