When I’m getting to know a new person, and they ask me about myself, it generally doesn’t take too long before I start talking about my wife. As I share bits and pieces of her life, I’m often met with the response, “Wow, it sounds like she has such a crazy story.” To which I reply, ”Yeah, she wrote a book about it. You should check it out.”
If you have followed Ceci, and “Healing, Hope and Wholeness”, you are probably pretty familiar with her story. During her book writing process, and even now as she continues to share her grief journey, I have walked through her story dozens of times; proofreading, editing, formatting and processing the whole experience with her. I may know her story as well as I know my own!
They say when you marry a person, you marry their whole family. I believe when you marry someone you also marry their grief. I don’t mean that as a negative. In fact, it's one of my greatest honors to know and feel my wife’s sorrows. It’s every bit as sweet as sharing in her joy. It is all a part of the person that I love.
I never met Ceci’s mom, Cathy, but I came so close. For one day we were actually on the same tiny, college campus. In all likelihood, we were in the same room! If only I had known what the future would hold, I would have dropped everything to have just one conversation with her. A few months later, as I was just becoming friends with Ceci, Cathy passed away. After that school semester I moved away, and it would be two years before Ceci and I reconnected and started dating. As a new college friend, I had seen her from the outskirts during the season of fresh grief. As her new boyfriend, I began to learn what that season was truly like for her and what life and grief looked like for her now. Over the past 9 years since we first started dating, each momentous occasion has carried with it the weight of her mom’s absence. Our joys have been shared with sorrows and together we’ve learned to navigate that tension. I’m still learning.
For starters, I’ve learned that there is no correct method to support a grieving spouse. Grief ebbs and flows like the wind and the way we respond will vary too. It takes work and attentiveness. That being said, if you love someone who is grieving, have grace for yourself. Nothing you do or say will solve the problem and that’s not your job. Your job is to love them and the fact that they are married to you tells me you are on the right track.
90% of supporting a grieving spouse is listening. Really listening. If you are going to speak into their life, you need to know where they are in that moment. As my wife shares her heart with me, I can be tempted to start thinking about my response. I mean, I don’t want to say the wrong thing or be insensitive. But, I’ve found that when I’m able to tune that part of my brain out and focus on what she is saying, my responses are more loving and life giving. When I listen well, I’m able to interpret her needs, and use the remaining 10% of time to meet those needs.
Most of the time, I find that all she needs is to be understood and for her feelings to be validated. She needs to know she’s not alone. In this case my response is, almost always, simple. “It’s not fair.” “It’s ok to still be sad.” “You can always talk to me.” “I love you.” I try to always end by thanking her for sharing with me. Her vulnerability is a gift and I truly am thankful.
On occasion, I will dig deeper. If she shares a memory, I might pull on it a little for more detail and a better understanding of her and her mom. If she is struggling to understand why she’s feeling a certain way, I’ll ask questions and try to figure it out with her. It may be easier to just stick with the empathetic responses, but I believe that, as her husband, I’ve been given an opportunity to come alongside her and take an active part in her healing journey. Apart from Ceci herself, there’s no one who has a larger stake in the state of her heart than me. Our stories have melded into one over the years; different pasts but a shared future. I want to do what I can to fill that future with life and joy.
Enjoy this poem written by Kyle Frost:
I wear it like a coat.
Heavy a times, but hanging on my shoulders at my own choosing.
Not that I chose it.
It was a gift from my love, but she didn’t know if I would want it.
Why shouldn’t I? It is so warm.
Filled with many memories.
Now and then I can feel the sharp point of one poking through.
I gently pull on it, watching it unfurl before me.
I cherish every one.
Each time, my coat becomes lighter. By a feather.
It will never become weightless, I know,
Nor do I want it to.
It’s weight reminds me of the giver.
Kyle Frost