The Stuff Nobody Wants to Say About Grief

I debated not sharing this because it almost feels too personal, but AS ALWAYS, there was a little voice telling me someone needs this, so here it is.
[I wrote that sentence Tuesday afternoon, and read about the passing of a young boy from my hometown Tuesday night.  God's hands are on everything.]

Yesterday marked 11 years since my friend, Samantha, passed away in a car accident. This is the first time I've ever written about it (publicly.)  I won't lie to you, it's terrifying.  I love being an open book and I think vulnerability helps us grow, but this topic is a hard one for me to be open about.

When I think of Samantha there's always a yellow glow around the memory.  I think it's because everything about her was so bright and cheerful.  Her heart was so big, and people of all walks of life just gravitated to her.  My favorite memories with her aren't crazy stories.  It's E and I being made to listen to her Hannah Montana CD on our way to tumbling at River Cities.  Laughing hysterically with Zac about Facebook "bumper stickers" in the music room- yeah, remember those? #throwback.  Sharing an iPod on the bus on the way to football games.  Her mom forcing us eat a Tudor's biscuit before our cheerleading competition because we were too nervous to eat.  I could go on and on, which is good because it took a LONG time to be able to talk about these things with a smile...to talk about these things period, so let's talk about it!

March 21st will forever be, undoubtedly, one of the hardest days of my life.  Not just in 2008, but every year since.  Losing loved ones is hard.  That's a given, right?  Losing someone young and unexpectedly is just a different level of hard.  It was not something my high school brain was ready to comprehend, so it didn't.  I completely shut down inside, but I did what I always do when things get uncomfortable - I put on a super strong front.  I laughed, told funny stories, and made jokes because that is how I could keep up the façade that EVERYTHING WAS FINE.  In reality, I cried A LOT - in my car, in the shower, in the locker room of the YMCA, and every night until I fell asleep.  I tried to keep being the same ol' Kellie at school because I didn't want anyone to know how badly I was hurting.  I didn't want people to interpret my grief as "weird" or "unhealthy,"  but let's face it - stumbling through life as a teenager is hard enough, but doing so while your heart is heavy with grief is an entirely different animal. 

I thought the best solution was to get out of town. Literally.  I went to Marshall University 4 months later, around the time that full blown depression had set in.  I slept all the time, didn't go to class, ate excessively, partied way too much, and just didn't care about anything.  I was prescribed antidepressants for a few months to help me get back into the habit of doing life.  During this time my thoughts were completely irrational 90% of the time.  Aside from a select few, I wanted nothing to do with the people back home, and I can't even tell you why.  I would get furious when someone posted on Samantha's Facebook wall, and if someone got a memorial tattoo or put a memorial sticker on their car, I would LOSE. MY. MIND.  I would even get upset when people talked about her in a past tense.  That's right - nobody was allowed to use the word "was" when talking about her.  I would go so far as to correct them and say "Is.  She IS..."  You guys, it took me YEARS to let go of that hurt and anger.  After a lot of prayer and soul searching, I finally had to come to terms with the fact that I am not the grief police.  It is not my job to tell others how sad they are allowed to be.  It is not my job to tell others how to grieve or how long to grieve.

I don't know who will read this, but I have some words of advice for anyone who is helping a young person navigate through grief.  Now, I didn't go to medical school (unless you count my 15 1/2 seasons at Grey's Academy,) but this is the advice I offer from my personal experience.
1.  Let them be with their friends.  Their friends are sharing the pain, and they understand in a way you never will.  They need their peers to get through it, so don't hold them captive at home.
2.  Treat them normally.  The last thing teenagers want is to be embarrassed, so don't ask a ton of questions at family dinner or expect them to discuss it with extended family at a birthday party a few weeks later.
3.  Don't force them to talk.  Ask them how they are or if there is anything they need, but don't force a conversation.  My friends and I went over every detail of Samantha's life and accident numerous times before I ever wanted to discuss it with an adult. When they are ready, they'll talk.
4.  When they do talk, LISTEN.  Don't try to fix it, JUST LISTEN.  I just wanted to word vomit sometimes without any type of response - positive or negative.
5.  Be careful with what you say and how you say it.  Certain phrases like "are you just going to sleep all day" or "you're already eating again?" would set me off in a fit of anger and/or tears in a second.  I couldn't explain why I was doing those things - it's just what my body and brain told me to do.
6.  There's no time limit on grief.  Don't say things like "It's time to move on," and "I think it's been long enough, time to get back on track."  Trust me, they want to, but it's not that easy.  Be patient.
7.  Get them involved in a group activity.  Example - Our teachers helped us clean up the school for the funeral and let us build a wishing well in her memory.  At the time I didn't understand, but now it is very clear what they were doing for us.
8.  Get help if they need it.  Let them have some time to process what happened, but in the meantime, stay vigilant.  Look up the signs and symptoms of depression.  You know your child, and if you feel like you need to intervene, then you probably do.  There is absolutely no shame in needing help in any form.
9.  Pray.  Pray FOR them.  Pray WITH them. 

They say "time heals all wounds," and that's true, but even 11 years later it's STILL hard to wrap my brain around the reality that I won't see her again for a very long time.  I kind of hate that we are all growing up and changing, but she will always be exactly the same.  I've shared every picture we have, and there will never be a new one.  Certain songs trigger memories, and I find myself driving along, daydreaming about what she would be doing now.  I think she would've been a huge fan of Lularoe, The Voice, and the fact that Miley Cyrus married a Hemsworth brother.  I also think she would be that friend who sends way too many gifs in the group text!

Each time I walk down the hallway to Buffalo's cheer practice I want to touch the frame on the wall that holds her cheerleading uniform.  I don't have a single memory on that team that doesn't involve her.  There is no doubt in my mind that losing Sam at the age of 18 changed me and the whole trajectory of my life.  I can't speak for everyone, but I think most of our friends and classmates would agree.  Suffering that loss and fighting through that pain has made me who I am.  It has made me more equipped to deal with the hard stuff, and it has empowered me to help others through their grief...and to write this post.  Friend, I hope and pray that you aren't grieving, but if you are - just know that you will come out on the other side.  Missing them never goes away, but you learn how to push the sadness and anger aside to find the amazing memories that make you so happy.  It may be awhile, but that's just fine.  Take your time.

xo- Kellie