Grief Is the Price We Pay for Love

Grief is such a natural part of our lives, and we often do not know how to be with people who are grieving. When I say grieving, I mean far more than someone we love passing away. It can be the end of a relationship or a marriage, a friendship that did not pan out, the loss of a job. Anything that changes our emotional state and takes away a part of who we were. A mother who loses her only child may feel she is no longer a mother. We identify with the persona that has been taken from us. Queen Elizabeth put it beautifully: grief is the price we pay for love. Let that sink in. To grieve fully is to feel how wide your heart is open, how deeply you love.

Being With My Sister

My sister was the life of the party, three years older than me. At fifty-one she had bad stomach aches, and within a few months we learned it was cancer. Within five months she was terminal. Slowing down enough to be with her through her last months was one of the greatest gifts of my life. I would fly between London and Holland, back and forth. On the morning of the day she died, at home, she asked me, "Jules, can I go back to the light?" We had talked about this, about my own near-death experience, about it being like moving through a dark tunnel back into the light. Giving her the space to go, while staying in such close communion with her, was one of the most beautiful things I have done.

The Anger I Would Not Let Myself Feel

After she died there were so many stages, and the one I would not let myself touch was anger. Anger at God, at the universe, yes, but never at her. My coach had me put my headphones in and go for a walk, and she said, "I want to take on the persona of your sister, and I am going to ask you: tell me what you need me to know." I ranted and raged. We were supposed to grow old together, to see our children marry, to ski at the apartment we owned in France. So much rage I had not allowed myself to feel. If you have heard me before, you know the only way out is through. The only way out is to go deep in, to feel it all, to let the body shake and tremor and move the emotion out.

Here is the exercise, and you can do it alone, in writing or spoken into your phone, or with someone holding space. Set a timer, start with five minutes and build to fifteen. Two prompts, on repeat. Tell me what you need me to know. "I am angry at you for dying." Thank you. "I miss you, I miss your touch." Thank you. Then the deeper one: tell me what you have withheld from me. That is where the gold is, where the little snakes in the grass come out, an old jealousy, an unsaid love. It comes in waves. After about fifteen minutes I felt completely hollowed out, like a blocked drain finally cleared. Walking the Amsterdam canals afterward, the grey November light seemed to brighten, and I knew exactly what I wanted to say at her memorial.

The Stages, and How to Be With Someone

Grief moves through bewilderment, that stunned disbelief where people throw themselves into funeral planning and estates to keep the logical brain busy. It moves through anger, where couples or those divorcing snap at each other like a cornered animal. It moves toward acceptance, where the logical brain comes back online and you can make a plan, one step at a time. No one's grief is the same. Over three years I lost my sister, then my father, then my mother, and I chose to wear grief on my sleeve, to become intimate with it and let it be my teacher.

Most people do not know how to be with someone who has lost another. The well-meant lines, "time heals, at least you still have your children," come because they do not know what to say. My advice: be with the person and see them. You can say, "I cannot imagine what this is like," or "I see your grief," or "I am holding you in so much love." And do not be afraid to reach out later, when everyone else's empathy has faded and the void sets in. A simple text, "I love you, I am thinking of you," is enough. Your energy is felt. Be intimate with grief, shine a light on it, and let it become your greatest teacher.

"Do you want to heal this wound, or do you want to keep loving? You can feel all those emotions without any negative charge tied to them."