Nice, respectable grief.

Remember “Gone with the Wind”? (Spoiler alert) When Scarlet’s husband dies at war, she goes into mourning. It’s all very formal. She wears black, attends few social functions, and isn’t expected to dance. It’s ‘respectable’. Course we don’t do that. We are all very open about it. Laying all our raw emotions out on display. 

Lots of us have been doing that this past decade or so with the advent of social media. Open and ‘honest’ about our lives. Well. Open to a point. It’s all filtered and curated.  But definitely public. Like we are celebrities. 

Anyway…I see the necessity of being a bit more private about grief. Because people. People say things that hurt. Lots of the condolences have been really kind. Just knowing someone takes the time to write a message, send a card, or stop to offer sympathy…it’s precious. But. 

There’s these loooong monologues about: “This is going to be hard. The holidays are rough after a loss.” Wow. Gee. That hadn’t occurred to me. Thanks for clarifying. 😶

I know, I’m being harsh. I’m feeling raw. I’m exhausted and grumpy. And, I’m not done. I’ve got more to criticize. Sometimes people say things to make *themselves* feel better. That’s all I can guess. They say these things then walk away patting themselves on the back for a job well done. The worst culprit are the ones that say, “She’s in a better place.” Or “She’s not hurting any more.” 

Excuse me? Do you know something about that woman that I don’t know? She felt like ‘religion’ was a private affair. She isolated herself. Had few friends and rebuked any accountability. So, I’m guessing: no. You don’t know. Now, don’t get me wrong…her cussing and general grumpiness may not be any indicator of her salvation. Because Christianity isn’t about behavior modification. This is the part where I will filter and curate myself.

It’ll be enough for me to say I am devastated that she is gone. There are songs I can’t hear on the radio without weeping. There are smells and sights that suck the breath from my lungs. 

My grief isn’t full of hope. It’s physically, mentally, emotionally . . . overwhelming. And these little speeches offered by some make me crazy. Of course. I just nod my head and say “yes, sir” and “thank you, ma’am”. Because momma taught me to be nice (to your face at least).

 So yeah, you could read this and say: “maybe she IS in a better place.”  But. . . .  

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