Good grief? Is that even a thing? I found out the hard way that grief is a natural, human response to pain. Learn to sit with your grief.
This post is part of the Five-Minute Friday quick write hosted by Kate Moutang. Join us each Thursday night on Twitter (#FMFParty) for fun and fellowship, then grab a pen and start writing when the prompt goes live!

Living in a Dark Place
“Mama,” Sarah whispered, so close I almost bonked heads with her when I woke up. “What’s for breakfast?”
Breakfast? Oh, yeah. Saturday morning and I’d let myself sleep in an hour. “What time is it, sweetie?” I asked.
“Ten o’clock,” she answered.
“My!” I exclaimed. “I really slept in! I’ll get up in a minute and make some pancakes.”
“We haven’t had pancakes in forever,” Sarah sighed in contentment while I struggled out from under the covers and reached for my robe. I never slept in.
Tomorrow I’d make sure and get up on time—Pedro would return from California in a week, and the whole cancer thing would fade into the distance. I hoped.
But I could seem to shake the fog. I hadn’t cleaned the house in…days? Weeks? Months? I couldn’t remember. Surely, I had gone grocery shopping since July…but I couldn’t remember, and February lurked around the corner. I went to work every day and taught classes, but I lived for a chance to fall into my bed. A real bed, unlike the Naugahyde fold-out chair supplied by the hospital for family visitors.
Obviously, I needed to get my act together. But I couldn’t. Grief kept me tethered. During one of the most joyful, celebratory times of my life, grief wrapped its insidious fingers around me.
So I did what any logical person would do. I strove harder to put on a happy face. When people exclaimed at Pedro’s miracle, I joined in the celebration. I slid further towards the pit of depression.
Chastising myself for my ungrateful feelings of grief when God had obviously bestowed a miracle on our family worked. Sort of. Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed. Years passed.
The Long-Term Effects of Not Taking Time for Grief
“Teachers should move to level three after no more than four years,” the school law professor intoned.
Tears erupted from my eyes, and I quickly tried to brush them away. After all, who wanted to break down in a classroom full of fellow educators? Over seven years had passed since Pedro’s miraculous recovery, and I had taken time during the summer to work on renewing my teaching credential.
The professor’s words triggered an unexpected reaction in me, and for the next week I cried without warning. I journaled furiously, trying to figure out what ailed me. Finally, the pieces fell into place.
For the first time since Pedro’s cancer diagnosis, I had started to express my grief. Grief over missing my girls’ piano recitals. Sadness because I missed our annual Christmas tree hunt. Grief over our changed circumstances and plunge into financial straits due to the ever-mounting costs of cancer.
My health suffered because I didn’t deal with my grief at the time. I gained weight, had mysterious chest pains, and couldn’t handle stress well. All because I didn’t take time for grief.
You can’t choose what grieves you, but you do need to acknowledge your grief. Read the Psalms—they contain some of the most grief-stricken verses in the Bible. David knew how to lament.
Don’t bottle your tears (God will do that for you Psalm 56:8 NLT). Journal your grief. Acknowledge your grief. Ask for healing. We all feel grief differently, and we don’t have to lose someone close to us to feel it.
It can happen over a lost job, a precious possession breaking, a hurting relationship, or myriad other things. Don’t deny it. Allow yourself to experience good grief.
Take time for good grief. Your body will thank you. #grief #depression #caregiver Click To Tweet
Good grief! Grief is mandatory – I learned that a long time ago! #7
Susan Shipe recently posted…Five Minute Friday – Grief
It took me too long to learn ;). But I’m doing much better at grieving in the present and not stuffing it down.
Anita Ojeda recently posted…Contemporary Christian Fiction to Help You Deal with Friction
If you will not face your grief,
please know this to be true
that just like the cruelest thief
it’ll take your joy from you
by returning in the night,
unwanted and unbidden,
when you are unfit to fight,
and will make of life a midden
of surrenedered, canceled dreams
felled by an ennui
that says life’s just not what it seems,
and hope is left to die.
So face it now, with resolution
that healing time may be solution.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser recently posted…Looking Forward Together
You’re nailing the poetry today, Andrew!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…SCH 026 Self-Care Hacks for Caregivers from a Neuropsychologist
Wow… thank you for sharing your honest and painful struggle. Your example and faith will help others to seek the help we need, to surrender, and to most of all, grieve. Thank you. Karen (FMF #9).
Thank you for stopping by, Karen :). Pain always has purpose when we use it to help someone else!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Sit with grief, you say. I like that.
I see God, sitting there, beside you, beside me. We notice because we’re sitting still. With grief.
Thank you for stopping by, Karen :). Pain always has purpose when we use it to help someone else!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
hmm, taking time to grieve. Yes, so necessary. Having grace on ourselves as we do, too.
The grace part is especially important, isn’t it?
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Thank you for Sharing Anita this is beautiful and so honest and heart felt. God bless Loretta fmf #2
Thanks for stopping by, Loretta!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Oh this post hit a raw place, when my daughter died I was scared to grieve. Someone had to keep it all together, I had to let her sisters know I was there that it was ok for them to live, love and laugh again. I hid and buried my grief scared what would happen if i allowed myself to fall into it. Grief does not go away no matter how hard you try, you cannot run from it. It caught me up, I was physically exhausted, broken and my anxiety well you can imagine. I had to face my pain and try and work through it. I’ve accepted i can not run through it but we have come to a happy place where I acknowledge it and give myself time. I truly believe that the end of my grief will be when i’m with her again.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Sara. May the God of green hope always walk by your side.
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Good grief Anita, your post really resonated and touched me today. Thank you for your heartfelt and captivating post. Good evening blessings to you.
Visit from FMF#15
Thanks for stopping by, Paula :).
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Grief is so hard! But it’s so important to acknowledge and name our grief.
Exactly! We need to own it in order to work through it.
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Anita,
Thanks for your sharing of a hard time in your life and the tears that came before and after. Blessings to you this weekend, Jennifer
Thank you, Jennifer!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Wise words. Thanks for being open about your struggle, and for sharing this.
(Visiting from #30)
Thank you for stopping by, Sandra!
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas
Aww, this is such good advice. 🙂
Laura Melchor recently posted…Life Music
Aww, thank you! It’s been a year of all kinds of grief, hasn’t it?
Anita Ojeda recently posted…8 Ways You Can Help a Caregiver at Christmas