MARCH 13
Was ever grief like mine?
—GEORGE HERBERTPerhaps initially this is what we all think—that we are alone
in experiencing so intense and painful a grief. We may even
be jealous of that grief—offended at the notion that anyone
else could grieve as much as we do.
And in a way we are right; our experience is like no one
else’s. Perhaps this holding on to our grief as though it were
unique is a way of learning it, of turning it around and
around until we somehow get used to the unthinkable.
Then, after a while, we may welcome the company of
others. Most communities have grief support groups of one
sort or another—people with whom one can speak freely of
how bad it is without fear of being thought excessive or in-
dulgent. When you begin to describe a particularly sharp
moment of unexpected pain, these friends will nod their
heads—Yes, I know what you mean. They know the stumbling
blocks and pitfalls of the journey we are making, and they
help by assuring us that things really do get better.
In time we become such helpers ourselves.
My grief is mine, and I am a part of the human family.