Sometimes it is the little things that hurt the most. The things so small we feel small even talking about them. The things so easily explained away, we never get to even finish describing them before they are dismissed. The things that seem so trivial we think there is something wrong with us for making such a mountain out of such a small mole hill. 

She raised three daughters with very little help from her ex-husband who let success lead to a trophy wife who had no time or care for his children and severely limited the already sparse time and concern he had for them. As the children matured they reestablished a relationship with their father and defended it with no thought of how this made the mother feel. She faced the ambivalent feelings of understanding their need to relate to a father and wanting that for them, while, at the same time, feeling unappreciated and forgotten. She was left with no room to complain without sounding jealous and petty, so she smiled and suffered inside.

One of the daughters died. The father and the daughter's husband took over the funeral planning and gave little thought to what the mother wanted or needed. She became just one of the family members being spectators at an event with no participation on their part. The funeral featured a video tribute. It was an oversight that no one did on purpose or even noticed, but the video did not show any pictures that included the mother. There were scenes with every other member of the family including the father who had been absent most of their lives, but no scenes showing mother and daughter together. 

That is the kind of "little thing" that hurts but cannot be mentioned. If she says anything the ones who put the video together are going to either be defensive or hurt. If she says anything she is being selfish and opening herself to someone saying, "The video was not about you." And the video wasn't about her, but it still hurts but seems too small to mention.

This is just one of hundreds of incidents that could be told. Being trapped in some small hurt that cannot be named seems to be almost the norm. Sometimes grief has so many hurts we just can't get around to dealing with all of them and these little ones get lost along the way. Often, we loose them by never finding the right time or place to speak about them. Most of the time, we do not speak because we know they will be explained away and we will be left looking petty and foolish.

I often say that the key to grief is permission to grieve. These little things offer the best proof of that statement. It is hard to find permission either from ourselves or others to deal with these seemingly trivial areas of pain. Everyone in grief needs one safe place and at least one safe person who is comfortable listening to all of our hurts, the small as well as the large, without judgment or explanation. Someplace to deal with the little things that seem to go hide, and in time, may do the most damage.

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