“I was minding my own business calmly picking up a few things at the grocery store and with no warning found myself sobbing in the cheese section,” explained a friend while recounting what I refer to as a ‘grief bubble’. She caught a wave of intense grief remembering how her loved one, who had recently died, loved cheese. She told me that she would always purchase all forms of cheese and cheese accoutrements when he was visiting and walking by the cheese aisle elicited loads of grief mixed with happy memories.
I find that these ‘grief bubbles’ hit us when we least expect them. Driving past their favorite store, smelling their shampoo on a colleague, seeing a bright red jacket that looked like the one she used to wear.
There is much of grief that is anticipated and expected like holidays, birthdays and death anniversaries. We know the occasion is coming and somehow prepare ourselves for it. It is those unexpected waves that often catch us off guard.
The surprise visits can be particularly jarring because we cannot predict them. What if I’m at work and catch a grief bubble or am with a group of new friends or in class? We can’t control the feelings and sometimes can’t control our reactions. So often people don’t want their grief on display; they may tear up, shutdown or not be able to talk due to the lump in their throat.
When a grief bubble grabs you in the most inopportune moment, I like to recommend taking a pause. A deep breath or two can slow things down and bring you back into the moment. Rather than succumb to the pull of sadness and pain, the breath can center you back to the classroom or the boardroom. My favorite grounding tool is the Five Senses. I ask clients to focus on what they see, hear, smell, taste and feel. Again, this grounds you in the present and takes your attention away from the grief and onto the task at hand. The Five Senses can be a quick fifteen seconds that you think through in your head, no one knows what you are doing and it can be soothing during an uninvited grief bubble.
During more private moments, I encourage grievers to allow the grief and lean into their feelings. I find that stuffing these big painful feelings leads to later consequences like a big blow up or a prolonged period of sadness or depression. Making time for grief can be healing. I was recently in a training about ‘grief in the media’ and the presenter made reference the the television show Shrinking. The main character’s wife died and her family and friends are working through their grief as part of the main plot. We were shown a clip where the daughter, Alice, schedules her grief time. She puts on sad music, thinks about her mom and allows herself to cry for a given time each day.
I have used a similar technique with those who struggle with anxiety suggesting they schedule a daily “worry time” where they save all of their anxious thoughts for “worry time” hoping to be free from most of their anxiety for the rest of their day. I love the scheduled “grief time” idea and will most definitely incorporate it into my tool box of therapeutic strategies.
Grief is hard whether it is anticipated or a surprise. It hurts and is painful and cannot be “fixed” because death is permanent. In this same training I heard “grief is love with no place to go”. I’ve heard that idea in many different forms, but this wording really resonated with me. My hope is always to help people find their joy again amidst the grief. The two can coexist; we can laugh and love and celebrate while also holding the grief. It is okay to do both. We will all know it in some form, as grief is the cost of loving and how lucky we are to have loved.