There aren’t just two or three standard ways to deal with grief. There are fourteen. They are as different as the personality of each person. One person likes to give orders. It’s his way of not losing control. Another weeps and wants comfort from others. One stays busy, cleaning, cooking, making phone calls. Another jokes and talks about things, anything to keep from talking about—it. And another just wants to be near, even if it’s only curling up in a ball close by.
There is no moral or lesson to be deciphered in these ways of grief. It just happens. There isn’t a certain way that a good Christian should grieve. Sometimes it just isn’t pretty.
And sometimes it’s beautiful.
Sometimes it’s a time for people who have never connected to find a common ground.
It can be a time to find creative ways to make each other laugh.
It’s a chance to say “I love you” without using words.
It’s a chance to say “I love you” if you haven’t said it yet.
Amidst the abnormality, normal begins to develop. Normal is the back porch where everyone goes to talk on the phone. Normal is coffee in the coffee pot. Normal is friends stopping by to give hugs and bring food. Normal is eight cars in the driveway. Normal is five pillows on the couch and taking short naps whenever there is a chance. Normal is trying to be normal when normal is the last thing you really care about.
There aren’t just 2 or 3 standard ways to grieve. There are 6,783,745,476. At least that’s current world populations.