We all experience grief in our own
way. Others may not understand the way I do it, but I don’t necessarily
understand how others grieve, either. I prefer to be sad and to make as many
jokes as possible. I’m not quite as bad as Chandler on Friends. I’m not that inappropriate or awkward, but I do try to
find humor wherever I can. I’m Irish – I can’t help it.
This morning, my family learned of
the death of my grandmother. I had been preparing myself for this. I have
already lost a grandmother, I can do this again. I was wrong. I walked into my
Nana Trudy’s house this morning, expecting to be able to say my final goodbyes,
but learned I was an hour late.
Depending on which “Stages of Grief”
model you follow, guilt is a stage. I felt extreme guilt today. Guilty for not
spending as much time with my Nana as I should have, even when she asked me
point-blank to come visit. Guilty for not going over last night when I felt I
should have. Guilty for telling my cousin not to go over last night and to wait
to go this morning. Guilty for having my aunt console me after she just lost her mother. Guilt is a horrible thing. But
guilt is also a chance to do better next time.
With every guilty feeling, we gain
the opportunity to do better. We do not feel guilt without knowing that we should
or could have done better or differently. We must not ignore feelings of guilt because
it is a reminder that change can be made. Although guilt can be crippling if
held onto, we must be able to let go of that guilt but not of the lesson it
taught us, for all things that occur, cannot be undone.
It’s funny. We aim to live our
lives as if each day could be our last. I think our new aim should be to live
our lives as if it is someone else’s last day. If you love someone, tell them.
If you miss them, visit them. If you are thinking about them, call them.
