Puzzling Over Grief

January is usually the time one thinks about all things new:

• a new year
• new beginnings
• new resolutions

But it is also a time to reflect on endings. As 2022 came to a close it was shocking how many people faced a loss. As a society we lost such well-known figures as Barbara Walters, Pele´, and Kirstie Alley. Personally, I know many who lost a loved one at the end of the year. 

The holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years, can be especially difficult when one is grieving. There is a mingled joy at shared memories past and sadness that the loved one is no longer there to share in making new memories. 

You hear it often: "Grief is a process." True, but it is not linear, nor is it the same from person to person. What is the same is the need to go through grief. There are no shortcuts, no way around it. The only way to get on the other side is to go through the abyss of grief. But... then... what?

In his excellent work, A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis wrote:"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." He wrote this shortly after the death of his wife, just as he was beginning his journey into grief. 

Later in his grief journey he would say: "And grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen. It gives life a permanently provisional feeling."

In my life I've experienced the sudden death of a father, the shocking murder of a friend, another friend taken by cancer and another still by an untimely accident. Lewis is right. The emotion which most closely resembles grief is indeed fear. 

It is the fear of wondering:

...  what will tomorrow be like now that my loved one is gone?

...  what will my day-to-day be like now that my loved one is gone?

...  who am I now that my loved one is gone?

It is the fear of the unknown. And everyone faces this fear in a different way. Some get stuck in that "permanently provisional" space - paralyzed and unable to move forward. Others try to mask their grief. 

After my father's death I saw a grief counselor who helped me a great deal. During one of our sessions he started as he usually did by asking me how I was doing. 

I shrugged and gave a small smile. "Fine."

"What kinds of activities have you been doing lately?" he persisted. 

"Not much. It's hard being around people because I don't feel like I'm really there, you know? So I've been having a lot of alone time."

"And what do you do in your alone time" he asked.

Another shrug.

"I don't know. I sleep a lot. I cry. I try to read but can't focus. I try to watch TV but can't focus on that either...." my voiced trailed off. "Oh... I have been doing a lot of puzzles, though."

"Puzzles?" he looked confused.

"Yea, puzzles - like jigsaw puzzles. I just keep one out on the table and sit there and put the pieces together."

Dr. Harris thought about this for a minute. "That's so interesting because it is as if you are literally trying to put the pieces back together."

Perhaps that's true and I was trying to put things back together, or, at least, put things back into some kind of order that made sense. Doing the puzzles allowed me to think without really thinking. My mind could process the grief and all the changes almost subconsciously. 

Recently I bought bought a puzzle table so I can pull out a puzzle when I want to work on one and then put it away - without losing my progress - so that it isn't in anyone's way. Perhaps that is why this is on my mind... but if you are grieving a new loss - or a loss of many years - please allow yourself the space and the time you need. And, if you are so inclined, grab a puzzle or two for the journey.