Thanks very much for this piece of writing. No-one can take away what you're feeling or experiencing, but how very sad that at such a moment they would try.
My mother died when she was 56 and I was 29. Six years later, my father died. I’m 75 years old now, and to this day, I remember - and am deeply grateful to - each person who showed up, be it for the funeral or for the seven days of shiva or through a card or a call (this was many years before email, let alone text threads). Some of those people, all these years later, fell into various hateful political sects. I am still grateful to them. They showed up for me when I was utterly bereft, fed me, cleaned up the house, and never asked for thanks. I was enfolded in kindness. I am so sorry that you were confronted by jealousy and nastiness. Your fine writing is testament to the strength of your spirit.
This is incredibly moving to me since I have also experienced the competition of grief and how insane and hurtful it can be. And the circumvention of grieving in our culture. When my older sister died tragically young I was fortunate to have two friends who had also lost siblings and were skilled in bereavement and its healing purpose. So they coached me, for want of a better word, on how to be present and sit with the grief and allow into my life fully. When my father died not long after I was able to fully be with the grief for this new loss. It felt completely right. I ended up having to write about it, centering my fiction around loss and redemption. That brought in an even deeper healing.
“Emotional warfare”--what an apt description of the words and behaviors of those who have to place their grief in a hierarchy at the expense of someone else’s. I’m so sorry for your experience, so poignantly and painfully depicted. Sadly, I’m living it now with someone who wants to interfere with my grieving. This hit hard in the heartstrings. Beautifully stated, Elissa.
Thank you so much, Elissa. I’ve been in a similar position, and I honor you, your grief, and the work you have done to arrive where you are today. Your words helped me deepen my own acceptance and peace. Blessings to your wise, compassionate heart.
Thank you. As a society we have become so isolated and cold. Awkward. It’s easier to be louder, competitive than having to be quiet, compassionate, observe and let be other’s grief as well as our own.
Everyone is on their own desert islands in grief. But what that particular unnamed family member did and said was terrible. I’m sorry. Thank you for writing this, and for reminding me to be kind to all people in my family when we lose loved ones.
Thanks very much for this piece of writing. No-one can take away what you're feeling or experiencing, but how very sad that at such a moment they would try.
My mother died when she was 56 and I was 29. Six years later, my father died. I’m 75 years old now, and to this day, I remember - and am deeply grateful to - each person who showed up, be it for the funeral or for the seven days of shiva or through a card or a call (this was many years before email, let alone text threads). Some of those people, all these years later, fell into various hateful political sects. I am still grateful to them. They showed up for me when I was utterly bereft, fed me, cleaned up the house, and never asked for thanks. I was enfolded in kindness. I am so sorry that you were confronted by jealousy and nastiness. Your fine writing is testament to the strength of your spirit.
This is incredibly moving to me since I have also experienced the competition of grief and how insane and hurtful it can be. And the circumvention of grieving in our culture. When my older sister died tragically young I was fortunate to have two friends who had also lost siblings and were skilled in bereavement and its healing purpose. So they coached me, for want of a better word, on how to be present and sit with the grief and allow into my life fully. When my father died not long after I was able to fully be with the grief for this new loss. It felt completely right. I ended up having to write about it, centering my fiction around loss and redemption. That brought in an even deeper healing.
“Emotional warfare”--what an apt description of the words and behaviors of those who have to place their grief in a hierarchy at the expense of someone else’s. I’m so sorry for your experience, so poignantly and painfully depicted. Sadly, I’m living it now with someone who wants to interfere with my grieving. This hit hard in the heartstrings. Beautifully stated, Elissa.
Thank you so much, Elissa. I’ve been in a similar position, and I honor you, your grief, and the work you have done to arrive where you are today. Your words helped me deepen my own acceptance and peace. Blessings to your wise, compassionate heart.
Thank you Elissa. The last four weeks have been incomprehensible. This helped. “The luxury of grief…”
Thank you. As a society we have become so isolated and cold. Awkward. It’s easier to be louder, competitive than having to be quiet, compassionate, observe and let be other’s grief as well as our own.
Peace to your ❤️
Well said. "Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn."
I lost both parents when I was 4. the hole never fills. It scabs over and little things pick at through the years. It never heals.
Everyone is on their own desert islands in grief. But what that particular unnamed family member did and said was terrible. I’m sorry. Thank you for writing this, and for reminding me to be kind to all people in my family when we lose loved ones.
Bless you for this.
Bless you.
I'm sorry for what you endured.
Sending love.
JB
Thank you for this beautiful piece of writing.
Thank you for this 💙
I relate to this so much. Thank you.
Thank you.
If only indeed
The world needs more of this intelligent compassion and careful confrontation. Beautiful and almost poetic. Well done!