Making Friends with Grief (Sort of)

In his book, Always Looking Up¸ Michael J. Fox draws parallels between dealing with his alcoholism and coming to terms with his Parkinson’s disease. 

“In the year or so between my Parkinson’s diagnosis and my quitting drinking, I had considered getting sober but feared life without the perceived buffer of alcohol.  What I came to realize after a few months of disciplined sobriety was that my fear had nothing to do with alcohol or a lack thereof.  It had to do with a lack of self-understanding.  As I gained more intimate knowledge of myself, why I did the things I did, what my resentments were, and how I could address them, my fear began to subside.” (Page 162).

Fox notes, “The same holds true for Parkinson’s.”  I resonate with this passage because for me the same holds true for grieving.  Fox came to respect his disease rather to live in fear of its mystery.  He has studied it now experiences his condition as “less sinister.”  This informed respect, however, does not result in acquiescence or victimhood.  “Respecting it,” he writes, “doesn’t mean tolerating it.  And you can only vanquish an enemy you respect, have fully sized up and weighed by every possible measure” (page 163).

There was a time when I wanted to write a book about making friends with my grief.  There is still some truth to that—more so than becoming friendly with Parkinson’s disease, for example.  I have learned things about myself and others and life in the last eighteen months that simply would not have been accessible to me otherwise.  In that sense I am grateful for my bereavement.  This is similar to what I hear from people in other sorts of recovery who are grateful for their afflictions because of the growth, learning and progress they have experienced in the struggle.

What I knew about grieving from my pastoral training over the years, however, didn’t seem to help much.  I was rooted in a rather wooden understanding of the Kubler-Ross stages of grief model.  It seemed that many of the professionals and much of the literature I encountered were in the same place.  I was fortunate to have been immersed in the literature of positive psychology, because here and there were mentions of research psychologists who were studying grief processes.  In particular, the folks in the area of the psychology of hope were connected to this area of study.  What I am writing in this blog comes from a year and a half of reading, reflecting and processing much of that information.

More to the point, I have found that becoming a student of grieving is, for me, one of the most productive ways to deal with loss, grief and recovering.  I’m sure that’s not the case for everyone.  Few people go out and by the Handbook of Bereavement Studies and then read it from cover to cover (I’ve always had weird hobbies).  On the other hand, when I have shared what I learn with others who are grieving, such information gives a measure of hope.

Just as Michael J. Fox dealt with his fear through facts about Parkinson’s (and alcoholism), I find that being a student of my condition makes life a little less murky.  I hope that will happen in this blog for you as well.