In the beginning, there was denial (1)

Where do I start? with the phone calls, text messages, or “if there is anything I can do to help let me know”. Anyway, it doesn’t matter where I start, all that matters is where I am. I have never known very personal loss. The first time I felt it, was Thursday. After 3 phone calls from my mother and brother within the space of 2 hours telling me my father was in hospital in grave condition, the final phone call came at about 1:37 pm Eastern Time, telling me my father had gone to meet his maker. No, I am not being poetic, those were the words my mother used after she said, it’s over. Think about how the big bang is described – first nothing, then everything. It was like my heart exploded because I had to clench my chest. Somewhere in the background of that phone call was my sister-in-law crying, so even before my mother said it, I knew what the news was. There is just often a feeling that comes before news that grave hits your ears and I had the feeling before I picked up the phone. The next thing I did was send my manager a message that I was taking the rest of the day off – my father has passed.

In the beginning, wasn’t really denial. In the beginning were pain, guilt, and confusion. I was in pain because I would not hear from my father again for as long as I live. I was feeling guilty having not spoken to him in the past 7 weeks despite the incessant prompting in my heart from what I am now convinced was the Holy Spirit to call him, and before you judge me, there is context (which I owe you no explanation on). And finally, I was confused because how does one grieve? I still can’t say that I know the answer to the question but here is what I am learning:

There is no manual, there is no linear path and one can experience the different stages of grief in unique and peculiar ways. Take the stage of denial for instance, you presume that this stage always has the bereaved wailing and shouting “This can’t be true, he isn’t really gone” and other forms of this statement. One might even say, the bereaved become delusional that ‘this’ death is not a real thing but I can tell you for a fact that I have felt no doubt about my father’s passing. What I have felt, however, is me, denying that I am in grief at all. I have gone out, sat with friends, talked about his passing like it was a life update, shedding no tear. I have even made callous jokes in an attempt to humour myself, and then I have come home to my apartment and broken down to cry when the sound of other voices is no longer there. One might argue that I did not miss my father, that I do not grieve him because when I seek comfort from people, I have not been crying to them, I have been talking. It is not that I am trying to seem strong, it is that company allows me to confront my reality which is that I feel exposed and uncovered, like my shield and my protection, is gone. My denial is a place – it is being in the company of people and when I am there, it seems as though I am not grieving but that in itself is my grief.

On Friday, I sent my lover (who is on a different continent) a list of things I thought I’d like to eat and I thought I might cook when I eventually gathered the strength to go to my kitchen. I never did make it to that kitchen because before I got the strength, he ordered me food and soup. My friend T was at my apartment on Saturday a, she brought flowers, my team from work sent flowers – both beautiful, deeply appreciated gestures. T spent that night with me, I kept telling her “thank you”, she does not know it is because her being with me saved me one long night of crying myself to sleep. One night is probably nothing in the grand scheme of things but I’ll take what I can get. I am grateful for the love that has found me across the seas. How can I possibly grieve alone? I do not recommend it.

I know I have told people who have lost “let me know if there is anything I can do to help” but by God, have I learnt that it is the worst thing to say to a person grieving. Not only do I have the burden to figure out ‘how to grieve’, but I must also find for you the best way to express your condolences? If I am being honest, people don’t know what to do because nothing they do can fix what you’ve lost. I do not need grand gestures for only Jesus can raise the dead, I need flowers, I need someone to order me food, if you have the time, maybe help me tidy up my apartment, I need a hug, I want a hug, I want you to call me and if I dare pick up, talk to me about anything that will take my mind off it. Don’t tell me about God’s plan – I know all about it and I still wish I could speak to my father one last time. You can ask me about the funeral plans but don’t ask me what happened except you see I am able to talk about it without breaking down. Maybe I need help with my portion of the cost of the funeral but I don’t know. What I know is, I want a hug, maybe a candle, a voice note, a prayer, forgiveness even because, in this time, I won’t always be kind. Some days I will ignore your calls, some days, I won’t but you just need to be patient with me, I am new to this too. If you know I have lost, it doesn’t matter what I say to you – even if I say or act like I am fine, you must help me because I am lying – I am not fine.