
Have you ever thought you should be over something already? That there should be a timeline on healing? You’ve had the pain, you’ve done the work, you can check the box – all healed now. But then the feeling comes back. Shows up out of nowhere. And you almost get mad at yourself – I’m healed! I shouldn’t feel this way!
I tend to treat things as a project or a class – something with a deadline. As in the appropriate amount of time has passed, so I should be all moved on by now. But every time pain or grief comes back to the surface, I feel like it’s an imposter. You shouldn’t be here, sir. I’m healed now.
But that’s not how it works, is it? Healing does not happen in a straight line. It has hills and valleys and curves so sharp you can’t see what’s on the other side. Grief circles back and shows up unexpectedly. It throws you for a loop because you’ve done so well and now here’s one of the hardest weeks and you can’t stop getting emotional about things.
Grief can be sneaky. And I’m talking about grief in general – you can be grieving a death of a loved one, an ending of a friendship, an absolutely heartbreaking breakup, the death of a dream or just a season of life ending. Grief comes in layers and sometimes creeps up on you in ways you least expect it. You have done the work, you’ve cried your eyes out and you are pretty sure you’re healed. Then come moments or events or things people say – these everyday innocent things end up triggering our pain without warning. Sometimes it’s a memory, a longing or just simply something you used to do with someone who used to be a part of your life. Suddenly normal, everyday things like the grocery store or running errands remind you of the person who used to do them with you. Or things you’d pick up for them. And heaven forbid “that” song comes on the radio at Publix and next thing you know you’re in tears over the bananas in the produce section.
A few events caught me off guard recently – I was going through a people situation and then going on a trip to visit my friends. In the past, someone would be there with me and/or for me and my healing heart did not anticipate feeling like something was missing or off because of their absence. It took me a day or so to realize what I was feeling. And then sadness and grief hit me in a way I did not contemplate the reality of.
It’s the same for holidays and birthdays and life events – when someone we’ve loved is not there in a capacity our minds had thought they’d always be. Sometimes you wish you could just hear their voice or experience this moment of life with them just one more time. It may happen when you least expect it and it can catch you so off guard. And just when you think you’ve healed, another layer of grief comes outta nowhere and you’re sobbing in your car in traffic on a random Tuesday.
Grief takes no prisoners and makes no apology for what it is. It simply collects its dues and quietly moves on. Since life doesn’t stop and things are swirling all around you, you have to find a way to live in the pain. So we figure it out and put what pieces we can back together and we move on. Bit by bit. A little wobbly at times, but stronger than we were the day before. We may live through different levels of that pain at different times, but we all find ways to move through it. Grief is just simply a part of the human experience.

Then there’s something fragile and precious that begins to happen next….like the certain type of beauty that happens when new growth appears in the forest after a wildfire. I was able to experience this phenomenon when I lived in Colorado and fires destroyed thousands of acres on the Grand Lake side of Rocky Mountain National Park. The scorched earth was no match for the new shades of green that pushed through the ashes and claimed their place in the sun. A perfect example of resilience. With less drama than the rebirth of a phoenix, these new plants quietly show up and stand their ground while life slowly moves back to normal.
That’s a lot like it is for us – as growth is born of grief, we harvest the bitter seedlings with experience and strength and enter in a quiet new way of living our lives. There’s a loss of innocence as we can never go back to life untouched by grief, but we have endured the pain and now have the chance to rise above and walk back into our lives. We painfully remember what it feels like, but have the confidence to face it again and walk forward. Our healed hearts fondly remember happy times and cherish the memories as we move on and live our lives. In doing so, we are now better equipped to recognize when someone else is grieving – giving us the opportunity to squeeze their hand while looking at them with the reflection of pain in our own eyes. Letting that speak silently – that we know and we are there for them, however they need us.
This world is made up of so many experiences and our lives intertwine with so many others – so in this life where we can be whatever we want to be, be a shoulder and a rock to someone who may be grieving. We may never know the impact we’ll have and what we’ll learn about ourselves in sharing the experiences of others.
Our time on earth isn’t a race. And don’t worry when grief or pain resurfaces, it will not undo the healing you’ve already done. You’re still standing after everything you’ve gone through. And that, my friend? That’s the miracle. That’s the win. It’s not about a timeline or a deadline or who looks better when it’s all said and done. Grieve as long as you need to. Lean on those you can trust. Ugly cry all over their shoulders. When you’re done, raise your head and open your eyes. Do you see what’s in front of you? That’s the other side of healing.
Now, go live your one wild and precious life.

