Grieving the Death of a Loved One

My grandfather died recently. He was in his late 80s, a firecracker, and I’m pretty sure I inherited his inability to keep still or bite my tongue. He wasn’t a man with a lot of words. Most of the time I spent with him as a young child and teenager, I barely remember him saying much to me. But let everyone else tell it, my grandpa quickly shared his praises about me with others. He was a simple man who paired white t-shirts with a blue button-up shirt tied in front. My favorite memories with him always started with a phone call where he’d say “Hey gal, I need to run downtown.”

It would be a bold lie if I sat here and wrote that I am not hurting now. But, as his only grandchild, I believe I share a lot of my grandfather’s low tolerance for tears and sobs. I am hurting right now, but my grandpa wasn’t the kind of man who would want his loved ones to grieve for too long. He was a practical, no-nonsense kind of man who worked hard his entire life. Although it hurts, I feel relieved that he can finally rest peacefully.

This may be a shocker given my chosen profession, but I am not very good with death. How I grieve differs each time a loved one transitions and does not mirror how others around me experience grief. Although I can be a crybaby about many things, in terms of the death of a loved one, tears and sadness typically come later –days, months, even years–as I reflect on memories.

Grieving is understandable

I have been experiencing death since I was very young. Being raised by older generations made me immune to death, or so I thought. My earliest memory of a loved one dying is attending my great-grandmother’s, funeral and my grandmother’s sister’s at age 7. Sometimes I wish there was a secret formula for eternal life. It’s nonsensical I know…Wishful Thinking I guess. Although I understand fully that as people age, they will eventually die. I can’t, or rather I don’t remember anyone explaining to me what death truly meant as a child. “She’s taking a long nap,” an older cousin told me when I questioned everything occurring around me at my great-grandmother’s funeral. I just thought that a funeral meant lots of crying friends and family, and a repast afterward.

“Only older folks die,”

I went to many funerals growing up–If you have a parent or grandparent who knows everybody and their momma, you understand. But most of these were funerals for the older members of my family or the community. We didn’t have many young deaths in the family growing up, so when it came to my family, I believed this until around age 15.

I mean, sure, I can recall learning of the death of younger people around me or celebrities, but it wasn’t anything I’d personally experienced. That is until both my dad and the paternal grandfather who raised me transitioned halfway through my sophomore year of high school. A few years later, a dear friend Kassie died shortly after we graduated from college, exposing me to the painful feeling of losing a friend. With each new loss, I learned how death affects people differently. I am also learning how dangerous it is to lock away your emotions and dwell on the fear that anyone, you me, she, or he could be next.

It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.

Marcus Aurelius

Scary thoughts like this caused me to toss and turn at night, especially at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Gaining, not losing.

I’m not sure what shifted my outlook on death and dying. But these days I don’t like to look at dying or the transition from life or death as losing someone. Although the physical body is no longer able to walk the earth, I believe that viewing death as the final “end all” is what contributes to crippling responses to “loss” and grief. Instead of death meaning a loss I view the transitioning of a loved one as a gain. Meaning I am gaining another angel or guide that I will eventually meet again whether in the afterlife or as transferred energy. Regardless of your views, the death of a loved one is hard for those of us still able to walk and breathe on this earth. We know that death is simply the circle of life. But that does not change the pain that it can cause. Avoiding the inevitability of dying creates or contributes to overwhelming fears of death which can lead to debilitating anxiety or phobia, sadness, and grief.

As my grandmother would have said, “We are on borrowed time.” it doesn’t matter your cultural background, economic status, or religious beliefs, life is temporary. Whether we live or die tomorrow life will go on in our place. And life is meant to be lived to the fullest!

My grandfather’s death brought up a lot of different emotions for me. But the warmest feeling is the knowledge that his physical body is no longer suffering. Although I did not spend a lot of time with my grandfather especially once I left to become a flight attendant, the moments I did share with him were all valuable lessons in patience and unconditional love. No matter how long in between our visits my grandfather always greeted me as if we’d just met the day before. Sometimes he would smile, sometimes he would fuss but he always let me know that he was proud and that he cared.

Rest in Heaven my newest angel. I will meet you again one day.