Surrendering to the Rhythm of Grief
It has been almost seven months since Mom died. I don’t cry much anymore. I still miss her, but most days I feel more comfort from the astonishing ways she reveals that we are as connected in Spirit as we were in life. But a few weeks ago, I had what felt like a crisis in that moment and needed to feel my mommy’s arms about me and hear her telling me “It’s going to be alright baby.” In my need for her, I felt the acute pain of her absence. It felt like I cried enough tears to fill the Pacific Ocean.
One of my dental crowns had fallen out-the third-in six weeks. My dentist had been able to re-cement the first two, but this had a post attached. Re-cementing a dental crown with a post isn’t always a viable option. I don’t typically overreact to life’s smaller challenges. But when I looked in the mirror and saw the obvious emptiness between teeth #11 and #13, my anxiety quickly led me to the worst case scenario. I would have to have the remaining part of the tooth surgically removed. Then I would have to WAIT SEVERAL WEEKS for the gum tissue around the area to heal before starting the process of the dental implant! A dental implant requires surgery to implant a metal post into the jaw bone and requires an EVEN LONGER PERIOD of time for the bone to grow around the metal post!! Then the process of creating a crown for a dental implant would require at least two appointments, AT LEAST A WEEK APART!!! I WOULD BE WALKING AROUND WITH A VISIBLE METAL POST PROTRUDING FROM MY GUM TISSUE FOR MONTHS!!!!
(DEEP BREATH)
How would I be able to sit with my clients with a big hole in my mouth now and then with a metal post hanging out for months after that? What about the three very important social and professional events I had scheduled in the upcoming week? I couldn’t go out looking like this! I don’t know if I was more exhausted from all the anxiety I had created or the tears I had cried, but I wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over my head and stay there-for a long time.
In the middle of my emotional tsunami, I called my sister. We have always been very close and the shared experience of our mom’s transition has strengthened our bond. Even though our grief processes have been different, I knew she would understand the aching that I was feeling in my heart for Mommy. Too, we can always depend on the other to find humor in a situation, even in the worst of times. I knew that as soon as I told her my dental crown fell out she would start laughing. And she did-with wild abandon. We laughed and cried together and reminisced about mom until we both felt better.
After our conversation, I realized that the emptiness between my teeth was a metaphor for the emptiness in my heart I was feeling as a result of my mom’s transition. It’s a part of the grief we all experience, even if it isn’t expressed. The vulnerability that I initially felt about others seeing me with an obvious gap in my mouth was similar to the vulnerability we typically feel about allowing our grief to be expressed. Society teaches us that the grief process should be a short process. We should cry-just a bit at the beginning-and then get on with life. Often times, we are afraid to express our grief, for fear of being emotionally overwhelmed or paralyzed. But the grief process is inevitable and it has its own rhythm. You can feel “fine” for a while and then the smallest thing can trigger that tsunami of emotions.
This awareness of the similarities between the loss of a dental crown and the grief process reminded me of the promise I made immediately after learning about Mom’s transition. I realized that this was going to be the most difficult loss I had ever experienced. I had already experienced the physical consequences of trying to stifle my grief after my dad’s death in 1992. Since that time I had also spent 18 years as a full-time psychology professor teaching hundreds of students about death, dying, and bereavement and supporting others through their own grief experiences. I knew what I needed to do. So in that moment, I promised myself that I would fully surrender to my grief process.
Surrendering to the grief process doesn’t mean that you are giving your power away. It simply means that you are letting go of the illusion that you are in control of an inevitable process. Allowing yourself to be fully present to your grief process is the path to healing your heart. If you are able to be gentle with yourself and seek support, you will be fine. And if you can find gratitude-appreciation and acceptance of what is-in the midst of your grief process, it can transform your experience, allowing you to find new meaning in your living.
This is because gratitude expands your heart, shifts your awareness and connects you to your inner light or authentic self. Gratitude is also the gateway to grace. Grace is the light of your authentic self that is reflected back to you. Once you connect to your inner light, you can’t help but share it with others. And as you light is amplified through expressions of gratitude, your experiences will reflect your light and return gratitude right back to you. Grace reminds us that we are not alone, that we are appreciated and a part of something greater and more powerful than ourselves. I know this is true.
As my heart was aching for Mommy’s touch and reassurance that all would be alright, I felt a surge of gratitude for the 55 years she had comforted me in this way, and the way she reveals she is still comforting me. I also felt great gratitude for my sister’s lifelong support. That gratitude shifted my awareness in the moment. I realized that if I could stay in surrender to my grief process, I could surely surrender to the process of getting on with life with or without a dental crown or replacement, for a few days, months or forever. The light emanating from my authentic self has nothing to do with my appearance.
So, three days after my “dental crisis” I attended a continuing education workshop related to the healing power of writing in New York City. I had anticipated this events for months as I had wanted to meet one of the presenters for several years. I also knew that much of what I would learn would be very helpful for my clients. I had no idea that it would be a deeply emotional and spiritual healing experience for me as well. I was in deep gratitude for “getting over myself” and going anyway. But I was shocked by the extent to which I allowed the light from my authentic self to shine. I enthusiastically volunteered to stand before the group at the podium in the front of a room to read a story I had just written (without an opportunity to edit it) during a writing exercise. Later in the afternoon, I realized that the person who had just stood up and enthusiastically volunteered to do an expressive reading of a poem about being grateful for everything was also me! I had never volunteered to read any unedited writings about anything to anybody before, let alone do an expressive reading of a poem! In both instances the audience accepted my light and reflected it back to me by applauding enthusiastically and later, individually expressing their gratitude for my willingness to be vulnerable in the group and share in such a powerful way.
At the end of that day I expressed my gratitude to the presenters in one on one, up close and personal conversations. I left full of gratitude for the experiences and even more for the flow of grace from the other participants and presenters. I was aware of the Universe wrapping its Divine Love around me and reminding me that everything is all right-always in Divine right order.
And all I had to do to receive such grace was surrender to the rhythm of grief.