Am I the Grief Girl?

May is that perfect storm for me. Busy-busy-busy, which is my drug of choice. When I’m very busy, I don’t have time to ponder what I’m missing or what I’m upset about. I can be “stressed” by having to be in too many places at once, rather than angry because I'm missing another precious family member.  I can be grouchy about not having any time to decompress, instead of grieving because my daddy and my sister are not here for my daughter's first communion, or my son's birthday, and my children are missing out. 

May is a bit of sunshine, and a lot of sting. May is birthdays, special days, celebration days like end of season parties, class parties, awards celebrations, field days and yearbooks and birthday parties. May is days that other people treasure, but that bring mixed feelings of sadness and injustice for me, like Mother’s Day. May is gray days, crapiversaries, dark black holes of sadness with no floor in sight. My sister died suddenly on Mother’s Day, and my dad died suddenly after my son’s birthday, who was named for him. 

I always say grief and gratitude are a balance, a discipline that must be learned and practiced regularly. It’s true, but the thing is, you so rarely arrive at “coasting” – that point where it’s a little easier, more routine.

When my sister’s death at 31 left us all in shock and disbelief, I found a group I could join as a way to work through my grief. It was an incredible blessing, this Grief Share group. 

 I remember one piece of advice from that season which resonated with me right away: don’t let grief become your identity. Don’t let this define you. Don’t allow this event in your life to become what you’re known for from now on. Grief and loss will always be  part of the fabric of who you are – but don’t let it be your marquee title.

This is admirable, and wise. We are more than our feelings, that is important. However…grief keeps finding me. Death keeps catching up with me. My beloved little dog, both dear grandmothers within 6 months of each other, and now my daddy – all within a span of a few years. I’m wondering if, in fact, grief IS to be my identity.