5 Lessons from 5 Years of Grief
By: Abasibiangake Essienubong
Tags: Loss, Death, Grief, Grief And Loss, Forgetting

Photo by Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash

I remember the first time I heard “Memories” by Maroon 5. It was unreal. Just catching a few lines here and there, I was like no — I need to see this for myself. So I googled the lyrics, and it was all I listened to for days on end. Now, I understand that when some people listen to Memories, they think of past love, past relationships… no lie detected — I sometimes do. But for the most part, I think of my mum. My sweet precious mum, way up in heaven.

September 9, 2021, will make five roller-coaster years without my jewel, and amongst the many things I thought of to mark the anniversary, I thought I’d share some grief/loss lessons I’ve learnt over the years.

If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it is that “grief” will eventually touch everyone. I remember in 2020 when a junior friend lost her dad, I wailed like a child because, for me, the most significant hurt was how I could not protect her from grief. Healing meant that I had to come to terms with the fact that as much as I love someone, I may never be able to shield them from experiencing grief. In March 2021, I was painfully reminded again. And so whether you are fresh into grief, many years in experience, or “never been there, done that”, I know you will find a lesson or two extremely helpful.

So here is it, 5 lessons I learnt in 5 years of grief.

Grief as a conversation weighs 6,270 lb and counting.

My earliest memory of grief was the death of a church buddy’s father. I was quite young — around 9/10 years. When I got the news that morning, I didn’t know what to feel. I remember just continuously thinking of her. Wondering what she was doing, what was on her mind, how she would sleep that night, how her life would change, how she would want me to be there for her or how I wish I could wave a wand and wish it all away. (It’s been the same cycle for me since then.) I remember begging my mum to go with her. Getting to her house, I’ll never forget how there was so much footwear outside, yet the inside was so quiet. And I didn’t know it then, but now I do. Grief creates a huge silence in its wake.

If you can cast your mind back to the last condolence visit you made, recall the silence in the room? It’s the process that begins the avoidance.

I have come to realize that there are certain people/friends you cannot talk to about your grief/loss. The majority of them, I understand, avoid the topic because they don’t know what to say. While for others, it is because of the mood grief tends to bring; ain’t nobody wants to sit in uncomfortable, awkward silence or tears. However, the downside to this is that such friends never really get to know that side of you. And that’s the thing with grief — it changes one so much that, to not know that side of you, is to never really know you.

Sincerely, even coming from someone who has experienced grief so deeply, there are still days I avoid the elephant in the room. But you need to — especially if you genuinely care for the person. That it isn’t pleasant does not mean it is not necessary.

Don’t scroll through that WhatsApp status.

Go through the motions with them.

Don’t wish they will stop talking about that person. Like I always say — you don’t want the people you love to stop talking about you when you’re gone. If they are talking so much about them, it’s probably because they left a good legacy.

Sit still and listen.

Smile.

Ask them to elaborate on the memory of that loved one.

If it is someone familiar to you, share a good memory of that person. Extra bonus if it’s a memory the grieving didn’t already know about. (Many times, it’s those stories here and there we collect that strengthen us and serve as an archive of all the good we know that person was.)