“Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown’d” –“In Memoriam A.H.H.” stanza 1, Lord Alfred Tennyson
Love clasping grief as I said goodbye to my grandpa at the airport when I left for China. We knew it could be the last time we saw each other on earth. It turned out this wasn’t the last time, but eventually the last time came.
Here’s a secret about living overseas: it involves a lot of grief. It isn’t always for obvious reasons, but it is an ever present part of the experience. I wrote about this back when I was getting ready to move, and now I’ve had years of experience in grieving. I’ve walked through airport security with tears in my eyes many times. I’ve grieved death from afar. I’ve said goodbye to friends moving to another country every year. I’ve grieved changes in identity. I’ve grieved the changes in situation that come from living in a country that changes quickly. It all adds up and compounds. I’ve had a draft of another blog post on grief for two years.
Now that I’m moving/moved back to the U.S., the layers of grief are just as deep–maybe even deeper. In a Calvin Seminary class I’m auditing, we talked about grief and loss, and Dr. Danjuma Gibson gave a very helpful definition: “Grief is a reaction to personal or group loss. Loss is the rupture of any type of human attachment that is necessary for human and social relatedness or personal flourishing.”
In this COVID season, I’ve seen and heard so much grief from Americans. Like much of the grief I’ve experienced overseas, it isn’t grief over someone we love who has died. It is grief for the intangible things we’ve lost like a sense of security and control and ability to plan. In the U.S. we have also opened a new chapter of lamenting the racism that has formed our country since its conception and plagues us still. Dr. Gibson suggested that many of us are grieving the loss of our image of ourselves as innocent and nice people. We have so much to grieve. I’m hoping that sharing some of the things I’ve learned about grief, especially in my years overseas, might help you grieve, too. And that grieving will help us become reattached people, people that are more like Christ.
Reading through the journals from my years in China is helping me reflect, grieve, and process
Grief is Good.
Grief is part of being created in the image of God. It is part of being human. We grieve because we love, and it hurts to lose things we love. Grief is how we process the pain of loss. We need to grieve. Unresolved grief leads to all kinds of problems.
Grief is not just for death.
Often, when we hear “grief” we think about death–especially of a close family member. And that is certainly a time to grieve. It is not the only reason we grieve, though. There are many types of loss. Loss of a role, our image of ourselves, relationships, material things, dreams, expectations. Many of these losses are not as obvious as death and don’t have prescribed mourning rituals like a funeral or bringing flowers to a grave. But all of these loses are ruptures of attachments. Right now I’m grieving the loss of a job and position, my identity as someone who lives overseas, changes in relationships with my China friends, living on my own, my cozy home (and complete wardrobe), the fact that I probably won’t get to pack up my own home, some of the plans I had for my life–including being in Beijing for the 2022 Winter Olympics, getting to worship in Chinese, being able to get delicious Chinese food delivered to my door, seeing Beijing’s summer roses, and not being able to grieve and say goodbye the ways I would ideally choose to. Writing the list out (and this is not the complete list in my journal) helped me to see how much loss I am grieving. And none of these losses are death.
If you ignore it, grief will catch up with you.
We can try to ignore grief, put on a mask, and say “I’m fine.” But unresolved grief comes out sideways. It can come out as anger towards the governor’s restrictions, as trying to put things back exactly the way they were before, itching to get back to “normal,” inability to maintain healthy relationships, and so many more ways. We can’t escape grief, try as we might.
Grief also compounds. One loss reminds us of other losses. And if we haven’t grieved the previous losses, our losses get exponentially larger. Ignoring or blocking grief might seem better in the short term, but long term, it is not healthy for us, because grief is part of being human.
There are many ways to grieve.
There is no one right way to grieve. Grief can be tears, but it doesn’t have to be. It can come out physically or socially or psychologically. Grief takes time, but the time table is different for everyone. One of my favorite discoveries is about pre-grievers and post-grievers. Some people tend to grieve before an event and some after the event. I’m a pre-griever, usually. This time things unfolded in a way that I didn’t get to pre-grieve, so now I’m grieving that I didn’t get to pre-grieve.
My favorite perch in the dunes of Lake Michigan has given me a great place to pray, grieve, and hope
Find the ways that help you to grieve.
Since we don’t have cultural rituals for losses other than death, this is time for some creativity and intentionality, at least if you love rituals like I do. Here’s some things I am doing now or have done in the past to grieve:
Give myself time and emotional space. I haven’t tried to be that productive in the past few weeks to have that time and space. And I know that realistically it is going to be a year or two before the grieving and re-entry process feels mostly complete
Read and pray psalms of lament. Right now my favorite is Psalm 77: “I remembered you, God, and I groaned; / I meditated, and my spirit grew faint. / The waters saw you, God, …Your path led through the sea, / your way through the mighty waters / though your footprints were not seen” (Psalm 77: 3, 16, 19). Psalms 13, 22, 27, and 42 are great, too
Write my own psalm of lament
Cry. And cry some more
Gathered all of my pictures of my grandpa and some things he made and placed them on my dining room table when he died and I couldn’t go to the funeral
Watch my grandpa’s funeral online. And rewatch the video of the slideshow the family created for the funeral occasionally, especially around anniversaries
Write blog posts
Paint some pieces that are inspired by my grief
Gather my favorite China photos into one folder on my computer (it has more than 450 files)
Create a photo book to remember the good and hard times
Talk with friends about life in China
Read through my old journals
Read poetry, including In Memoriam A.H.H. and The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief
Work through a debriefing workbook to process the complexities of life in China
Learn to cook Chinese food, to help me integrate life in China and life in the U.S.A.
Go to Lake Michigan frequently. The hiking and sitting alone in the dunes gives me space to grieve, and the lake itself reminds me that God is a big God, able to take all of my emotions and give me new dreams
Keep a list of things to do, foods to eat, and people to see when I can travel back to Beijing to say goodbye in person
I loved my life in China deeply. Since that relationship has ruptured, now grief and love are clasping each other in my heart. What have you lost during this season? How are you grieving those losses?
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