There are no adequate analogies that can describe the pain of grief, so any effort toward doing so tends to trivialize the pain which is the last thing I want to do. Nothing can describe the pain, yet we need to draw some comparisons between grief and some other events in order to explain some of the more usual reactions most have on their grief journey.

Grief comes in waves that sweep over us and sweep us out to sea. We seem lost in the whirl of pain and loneliness and are tumbling out of control. 

Sometimes the waves don’t start at the time of the death. Often we are too stunned to face the reality of the loss. It all seems to be a whirl with questions whizzing by and not staying long enough to be answered. With reality trying to break through but just hitting long enough to bring tears only to be crowded out by the feeling that none of this is real. Then the day comes when the whirl stops, all of the questions and reality land, and we are in a huge wave of grief. We have difficulty breathing, and are usually amazed that there is so much physical pain in grief. It actually hurts.

Sometimes the waves are predictable or at least we can figure out what caused them. Someone said the wrong thing. We notice a picture or some other items that reminds us. We go to someplace that brings back memories. A friend insisted that we go to lunch at her favorite restaurant without thinking that the place was where she and her husband dined the most. She was so overwhelmed by the wave of grief that we had to leave. She was embarrassed of course, and cried all afternoon. The next day she was apologizing to me, but I understood what had happened and was not embarrassed in any way. A wave hit, and a wave should have hit.

Any anniversary or holiday can bring on almost a tsunami. The wave begins to build about thirty days before the event. We begin to be irritable for no reason and may not even notice it at first. We gradually get more and more restless and then realize a birthday is coming up or the anniversary of the death is near. Quite often the anticipation of the day is worse than the day itself. The first time through the holidays and anniversaries are the hardest, of course, but even though the waves decrease in size and intensity, we will feel at least some wave for the rest of our lives. They won’t hurt like they do at first, but they will still be there. 

Most of the time, waves come without warning. I cannot count how many women have told about leaving a grocery cart in the aisle and going home because a wave hit while they were buying groceries and they could not continue.

The response to grief is much like congestive heart failure that causes the lungs to fill with fluid and needs some medication to cause the body to bleed off the excess. Grieving is a process of filling up with feelings that need to be bled off as regularly as possible. 

I do not believe grief can be organized or predicted, but after years of walking with grieving people, it seems to me that we have almost constant waves for a while after the death. Gradually the waves get smaller and further apart, but we seem to have a rather large one about every three months. There is nothing set about that time, they can come sooner or later, but it seems that we are gradually filling up and about every three months we must bleed it off.

I have noticed that many people have a large wave just before the second anniversary of the death. Usually they are surprised and even shocked when it happens. They thought the big waves were behind them and then wham, they get broadsided. Perhaps the reason is that as the waves subside and their friends seem tired of talking about the death they have less and less opportunity to bleed off the feelings as they build and the second anniversary forces the issue.

Congestive heart failure has medications called diuretics that bleed off the fluid. The best diuretic for the waves of grief is a listening ear. We talk the wave away. As we talk we are bleeding off feelings and pain. Sounds too simple of course, but noting works like an understanding friend simply letting us tell our story for the umpteenth time. Give it a try.

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