The Beauty of Grief
The ugliness of grief creeps into my heart, unannounced, and twists the joy I feel for others into pain for what I have lost. The ugliness reminds me that my prayers weren’t answered. It makes me feel like the Grinch, with a heart 10 sizes too small. I know I am only human and I can’t control feelings that pop up on me, but I still feel disappointed in myself. Just when I feel that I have conquered it, and restored my faith and love, the ugliness blindsides me with a vengeance. The ugliness makes me feel like a spoiled and jealous child, looking at what others have in comparison to what I lost, instead of focusing on what I still have. The ugliness won’t let me forget that there is no hope for recovery in Lauren’s death. It reminds me that I must say goodbye to my child every morning all over again. It makes me separate myself from those who have not experienced profound pain. The ugliness makes me question God and His goodness. It makes me question my faith, and why I choose to believe when I feel forsaken. The ugliness makes me fear further chastisement in my life for having these unloving thoughts and jealous notions toward God and mankind.
To combat this ugliness that permeates my soul, I must find the beauty in grief. Beauty is not merely defined as something that is pleasing to the eye. Beauty is also defined as a combination of qualities that pleases the intellect or moral sense. It is beautiful when a soul is stripped of its pretenses, and made to grow. My soul becomes more beautiful when I put my life into a new perspective, where I don’t fear death, and I don’t take life for granted. There is beauty in reaching out to others who are walking the same painful journey I am. Only through the grace of God can the ugliness of grief be made beautiful in my life. It is through death that I come to appreciate grief as a beautiful gift because of God’s promise that if we do His will, we will be with Him and our loved ones in the afterlife. Lauren’s death was a tragic end for me, yet a beautiful beginning for her and in that paradox I find the beauty of my grief.
Tara Rodney
6/16/11