Where has the grief gone?

My days now are busy and filled to the brim with tending to the needs of little ones. Much of the world has come to a grinding halt and gone quiet, but within the walls of my home it is busy and noisy. Until the end of the day, that is. Around 9pm each day, my home also stops in its tracks and the quiet settles in. Then for the first time everyday, I stop to think about all that is going on. Lately in the evening as I settle into that stillness, I find myself imagining how quiet it also is right now at A Haven. Though we are here for you remotely and continuing to offer support through our A Haven At Home Newsletter, our gathering room is, for now, absent the sound of ping pong balls and velcro darts bouncing off doors and walls. Our teen room sits cool and still with no voices eager to be heard. Our littles and middles rooms are free of the messes that are made through therapeutic play. Even during the day, our office is quiet. There is no typing, no meetings, no tours, no impromptu group activity brainstorming sessions. It’s difficult to imagine how different it would feel at A Haven for this moment in time, especially given that the needs we exist to meet have not gone anywhere. 

As we all jumped into survival mode in mid-March, it may have seemed for a moment that the grief had gone. That it could have somehow understood that suddenly our plates were too full, we wouldn’t have the capacity to also grapple with our pre-existing pain, and so it decided to be gracious and leave us alone. We might have been so busy building new routines and learning to work from home while also helping children navigate the world of remote learning to think about our other pains, to think about our grief. I know I certainly was. But just as A Haven sits waiting for us, our grief is right where we left it, waiting to be checked in on. Waiting to be released. It can be scary to turn towards the grief while at home and away from other supports that can be there to catch us if we become overwhelmed, but it remains important, especially now, to make time to take stock of how we’re feeling. The grief that already held a place in our lives will be complicated by the unusual times that we’re living through now. That’s okay and to be expected. Being intentional about making space for the grief when we can will help to keep it from bottling up and boiling over. So, when you can, stop to feel it. How am I? What has changed? What emotions are the most present? Wonder even what your person would have to say about all that is going on.

Know that your children’s grief is also right where we left it. They too may find themselves experiencing a whole new range of emotions related to their grief - maybe worry over someone they love catching this virus has become tangled up with anger that was already there. Maybe sadness that they previously had no trouble expressing has become buried underneath a desire to not burden a caregiver during this time of extra stress. So stop again to feel it with them. Be curious about what they are going through. 

If you take some time to pay your grief a visit, do so when you’ll also have a moment (however brief) to take care of yourself and to model healthy coping for young ones. When we close groups at A Haven, we do so with a moment of gratitude to help recognize that while much has been lost, much also remains. Maybe you’ll only have time for that brief moment of gratitude after grieving, but do take that moment (or more if you’re able) to balance yourself back out. Recognize the resilience that it takes to get through each day in this momentary new normal, and know that that resilience lives within you and will also help you to weather your grief during this time and beyond. 

This week’s A Haven At Home newsletter has some activities geared towards getting back in touch with your grief. Give it a read and see what feels within reach for your family. If you aren’t yet signed up to receive A Haven At Home each week, do so here, and remember that we are with you in your grief and cannot wait to see you again. 

Written by:

Kate Lannan

Community Services Director