the myth of moving on
with great loss there is no moving on, but a restructuring of the very essence of who we are
Speaking with the hundreds (maybe thousands throughout my 30+ year career) surrounding their life after the death of someone they are deeply connected to has highlighted a recurring theme of frustrating messages well intentioned supporters hand out. I’m sure you’ve heard it yourself.
You may have even been programmed to use words surrounding the myth of moving on or having closure after the death of someone we love.
The problem with language and the messages we give is that so many words and phrases can have a variety of meanings. When we get into the terrain of death and grief, this is especially true.
When people say to the grievers that they want to see them moving on, or shouldn’t you have closure by now, they are omitting the two words that make that statement relevant to what they desire— for me.
Our responses to trauma and grief can make others uncomfortable. People want to see us doing better so they can feel better and dispel their worry about how we will move forward.
Everyone grieves differently and the intensity of the grief is related to many factors: the relationship with the deceased; circumstances surrounding the death; others’ responses during the dying and after death; how much the deceased was an integral fixture in our lives, someone who was part of our essence, our upbringing, our day to day life, our coping …
The myth of moving on has served no one. In fact it is responsible for inciting even more pain because grief will have its way whether you meet it head on or stuff the feelings under the premise of closure and moving on.
Closure suggests tightly sealing the emotional box of feelings surrounding their death. Moving on implies the need to leave our deceased loved ones and our sad and varied emotions behind.
Unfortunately, since we so seldom have conversations surrounding death and the aftermath, survivors can feel pressured to follow that move-on-map. Maybe it would help us all to reframe the process to simply moving forward, one day at a time, in those earlier days and months, and for some, years.
We sometimes see people take the path of trying to stuff their difficult feelings down by drinking and medicating emotional pain away. Frequently there is a displacement of emotions. People who don’t shake hands with their grief and have a willingness to process it may become short tempered, anxious, fixated on other uncomfortable thoughts and emotions or work towards shutting down the pain by feigning positivity. They sometimes throw themselves into over-doing— working, exercise, destructive habits …
The myths of how we should grieve also gives employers a pass to think we will return to work after our three bereavement days and be the same person we were before. But most troubling is the pressure it has put on the survivors who silently suffer due to the over-culture’s message and think they are doing something wrong because they know they will never be the same.
Grief dismantled me and put me back together differently. It’s been my job to figure out how to move forward in a way that carries the love of my people with me. We all morph and change, such is life. Of course the deaths of our deepest loves will affect the trajectory of that change.
A mother I interviewed for the project and is featured in my book and the podcast said that the death of her seven year old had changed her on a cellular level. She would never be the same person. Are you nodding like I was when she said that? Of course. To not believe her statement would be inhumane.
As I’ve quoted in my book, Death and its Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Beautiful Lessons: field notes from The Death Dialogues Project research says that the primary reason a high percentage of parents divorce after the death of a child is because they are judging the way each other grieve— as if there is a right way.
What we know for sure about grief after intense loss is that it changes us. Yes, we hope to get to a place where the intensity of acute grief softens and the reality of the absence of our person on the planet is integrated into our lives, leaving us to decide how to move forward and honor them and their effect on our lives, but until the end of our time we may experience waves of more or less intense emotions surrounding their absence. Memories, holidays, seasons, places, scents all can trigger floods of missing our loved ones knocking on our door.
I’m reminded of the first time I was very unwell from an underlying health condition after my brother and mother died nine months apart— my primary supports from my family of origin—and the utter aloneness I felt to my core. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a caring partner and others in my life, it was the body-mind-soul memory of how they always cared and checked in and had my back. Survivors of a tumultuous household, we were a triad of mutual support and suddenly I felt alone in the foxhole. Not the missing them that had been a part of my process, but a bone deep realization that I was alone on the deserted island that held our stories of survival and took extra care of each other because we knew the violence from where our sensitivities were born.
I couldn’t have predicted that was how grief would show up for me in that moment just like we can’t predict when we need to be seeing signs that another person is feeling their loved one’s absence become more integrated into the way they live their lives.
The aftermath of death is so very different for every person and holds varying levels of love and connection. The best guidance I can give to you if you are grieving or supporting someone who is: make friends with grief.
Understand griefs direct correlation to the deep love and the person you are missing.
Open to the fact that you are still connected to your loved one by that intense love and bond you shared and that deserves to be honored.
Release expectations of how others should grieve and refrain from giving them messages they are not doing it correctly.
When supporting someone, try to come from a place of compassionate inquiry as opposed to giving advice or making judgments. Many people have said they wanted for others to simply be present.
Befriend grace as you feel your own deep feelings or support others during theirs.
For more of my thoughts on the matter you can read this piece: calling bullsh*t on “grief”
Here are our last two The Death Dialogues Project Podcast episodes. As always you can find all the podcasts on this platform or listen wherever you enjoy listening.
Bethany Harvey is a debut memoirist whose book, "Dipped In It," reached the best seller list on both Barnes & Noble and Amazon when released in July of 2021. "Dipped In It" came to life when Bethany’s "gratitude journaling" went awry. In "Dipped In It," Bethany’s daily reflections during a period of deep grief explore the question, “Can gratitude and grief coexist?” The answer is a resounding yes, as Bethany learns that we can rage, weep, belly laugh, and ache over the beauty and fragility of life—all in one day, hour, or moment. It all gets to belong. Bethany is a deep thinker and feeler, the mother of two inspiring children, and the owner of a much sought after childcare center in her home State of Rhode Island. Her daughter is showcasing the gorgeous cover she created in the photo.
Shauna is the creative founder of the Growing Up in Heaven Program for mothers who want to connect and communicate with their children on the Other Side. Shauna’s personal journey through the loss of her son Jack has paved a path for mothers to move from grief to relief as they learn to make the connection with their child in Heaven. A powerhouse in the spiritual communication realms, Shauna’s first-hand experience with loss and grief allow her to share a wealth of soulful + heart-felt tools and support on how to navigate loss and find true meaning in life again. She runs her business from her home in Canada, and is the host of The Oracle of Light Podcast. Shauna enjoys kickboxing and working out, spending time in the mountains with family and friends, and her continued quest for the perfect cup of coffee.