It’s been almost 13 years since my father transitioned to
the other side. It was years after he died before I felt somewhat whole again.
I say somewhat because that kind of loss is life altering and you are never the
same as you were before it happened. But I did finally get to a place where I
could think of him or say his name and not fall apart. Even now if I say too
many sentences in a row about my dear daddy I feel the knot begin to form
in my throat and the tears start to well in my eyes. I know the length of my grieving
was in direct relation to the amount of safety I felt to engage my feelings.
There seemed to be no space to have the meltdown that I think everyone is
entitled to when they lose people they truly love. Society allows 7-10 days tops
and then you are expected to go back to “normal.” But there is very little acknowledgement
of the fact that for the grieving there is a new normal to which we must
adjust. Friends try to be supportive but they must go back to their own lives
and responsibilities. And let’s face it, unless they too have lost a close
loved one like a parent, they really aren’t equipped to help anyway.
I cried every day for a year and no one knew. I’m not one
who asks for help easily. So, I put on my brave face and went on about my daily
activities. But I would lay in my bed at night when the world was silent enough
to allow me to hear my grieving soul and cry because I’d never hear his voice
again, because I would never see that smile that could light up the world
again, because I’d never hear him say he believed in me again. I’d cry for the
conversations that only we could have that we’d never get to have now. Mostly,
I’d cry because my constant, dependable, reliable safe space was gone. No
matter his imperfection, he was daddy and the world was not so big and bad with
him in it.
I’m thinking of this tonight as I think of Bobbi Kristina
and her fight for life. Her situation is just the most recent that has caused
me to contemplate how our consumptive nature as a society has crossed over from
mere material to actual emotions. The advent of reality television has given
rise to a culture that consumes drama and grief like Sunday supper and leaves
not space for the very real people who live public lives to safely experience
their emotions. Actually we prefer they not deal with things in a healthy way because
a Kanye West mindlessly acting out his grief is far more entertaining than him
taking time to truly process his loss and come out on the other side of it.
This young woman lost her mother, whom we all
laid claim to as our own. So, even in those initial moments when most of us
would be dealing with the reality of what happened and letting it sink in she
was floating through a world wind of tributes that kept the lonely at bay for a
while. But after all the tributes were through and the last songs sung, where
was her safe place to grieve. The same public who claimed to share in her grief
in the beginning, made her the butt of their jokes and she became just another
public figure for our consumption.
Tonight I pray for her, her father and her family. May the God of peace be with them through this trying time and may they find love and a
safe space in each others presence.
I also pray that we as a society increase our compassion and
decrease our need to feed on people’s emotions as a form of entertainment. I
pray we learn to view people who live public lives as the people that they are
and allow them the space that we all deserve to experience their private
emotions.
Selah…
