For the Love of Grief

I don't know about you, but I personally am a HUGE Marvel fan. I love all things in the Marvel enterprise so when Disney recently started streaming their new show "WandaVision" I knew I was in for a treat. Needless to say, the show has been amazing so far but there was a line on a recent episode that really stood out to me. It's played in my head several times and it's, partially, what influenced this post. My fellow fans already know where this is going but for those of you who don't watch the show, I'll set the scene. As one of the main characters, Vision, was recalling some of his wife's past traumas he said "What is grief if not love, persevering?" There's so much embedded in that phrase... so I decided to share my thoughts. 

Over the course of my life I've experienced my fair share of loss and I'm sure if you're reading this, you've experienced a decent amount of it too. In the day and age that we're living in right now, it almost seems as if "loss" has taken a permanent place in our homes. The remnants of what we've lost linger and we're forced to encounter the painstaking journey that is grief. Loss comes in many different forms; maybe someone close to you had their life taken before you were ready to say goodbye. Maybe someone you thought would be in your life forever willingly leaves. Or maybe you had to walk away from something that provided a sense of security but in reality wasn't good for you. Whatever the situation is, any degree of loss results in pain and when that pain comes, we have to do our best to move through it.

My father passed away almost 8 years ago and today would have been his 65th birthday. He was the person who understood me the most and losing him was life shattering. It took me a long time to start the grieving process and it took me even longer to actually get through the different stages of it. I understood how and why he passed but I didn't want to accept that "my person" on this earth was no longer here. As a kid, people would jokingly call me by his name because of how much I resembled him. As I grew up and became a young adult, I began to learn that my resemblance to him wasn't just in appearance. My mannerisms, the way I thought, and even some of the ways I did life were just like him. I grew to understand why he was the way he was. And just as I was beginning to embrace those things in me, he lost his life. Nothing made sense. I didn't want to do anything. I no longer wanted to be anything. And although I didn't see it happening, I was on the fast track to one of the worst depressions I'd ever experienced.

I remember crying out to God, wondering why I had to deal with such a terrible thing. Why did I have to suffer through the pain of losing my father at a mere 20 years old. He didn't have an answer for me at the time but He did provide comfort. As years have passed, the answer to that question has become a bit clearer. My suffering, and more importantly, my perseverance through the pain is meant to be a beacon of hope and help to others while they try to navigate what I've already overcome. That's another part of why I'm writing this post. Losing my dad was and will forever be a source of pain in my life but I survived it. Loss causes pain and pain causes grief. But here's the thing: grief isn't meant to be something that ruins us. It's meant to be something that bears reflection to the love that we shared with what or whomever we lost. 

The more intensely you love someone, the more heavily the weight of losing them will be. The beauty in it, though, is that at least you loved. At least you experienced an emotion so deep and powerful that it will linger on for the rest of your life. And yes, sometimes the lingering will be painful, but it's worth it. Love doesn't die, it just transforms. And you have every right to choose what that love will transform to. For me, the love that I have for my father will always be love. He was by no means perfect, but he was mine and his memory deserves to be celebrated. The life that preceded whatever you lost deserves to be celebrated too. Some days will be harder than others but I genuinely believe that if I'm still here, 8 years later... you can make it too.

Grief is just the reflection, continuation, and transformation of love.  

With Love,

Chessi Rae

P.S. Happy Birthday Dad!