In your deep floods,
Drown all my faults and fears
Nor let His eye
See Sin, but through my tears.- Orlando Gibbson.
Grief is a classy wise elder, that will calmly sit you down and serve you tea you later realize was laced with the same poison you served her for years. Grief’s cure is grieving. Whatever that looks like for you, do it! The wise elder will thank you.
Denise Kekimuri ( In Her Grey)
This year I asked my family members to share our mum’s favorite things, things that are still stuck with them after 7 years without her physical presence. Things that cause you to pause in your day, could be a whiff of a scent, taste of her favorite meal or even her favorite drink; anything that forces them to go down memorial lane. At first, people were reluctant but I nudged them on, this being my area of expertise by default I know the importance of memories of a dearly departed one. It’s a bitter- sour experience but the tears do bring it all to completion.
Today, morning as I prepared for my crying session, yes, I have those scheduled because I have figured out the power of tears. I actually used to stuff them down and get that mango in my throat but not anymore. In my line of work, walking with bereaved women and couples, the first thing I tell them is that it’s ok to cry, tears are how our hearts speak when our lips cannot describe how much we’ve been hurt. They are not a weakness, if anything they are a sign of strength. That one is brave enough to be vulnerable and listen to their heart speak. Not many human beings have mastered the art of a good cry. I learnt this early March, I take a morning off to just release everything because there’s so much wrong going on in this world right now and we are not being given time to process. I found myself one day asking God, are you even there? I don’t like these thoughts, they normally get me in problems because He then goes out of His way to prove He is there. This was one of the ways He showed himself. “Kekimuri, you need to cry.” And so, I did…it was the weirdest feeling but the most uplifting of all I have experienced in a long time. I felt lighter after. Did the problems go away, no, they didn’t but I had given them their due diligence and respected them for whatever they had brought forth. I sat in the uncomfortable, what I could change I did, what I couldn’t I let go. This is what I call my SELAH moments.
Playing my mum’s favorite playlist, I began my session then I noticed one song had been left out, or I was the only one who had the rare opportunity of hearing her sing it out during her Sunday downtime moments, “Drop Drop, Slow Tears. This song moved me( I had never listened to the words, just the melody the last verse just went right through me. Link below) In my deep floods, I have wailed for my mum many times, when someone (dear and close to me) told me that I was grieving the Spirit, I had to close the period of mourning: I actually believed that but that wasn’t right. Knowing what I know now about grief and seeing the pain that this world has in store for us, I don’t align to that “religious rhetoric” There’s actually a word for it, “spiritual bypassing” this is when people try to console the bereaved with anecdotes like: “It was God’s plan,” “she’s in a better place” (someone said this to my sister and she jeered back) hahaha. My mum used to say that if you have nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all. Let’s stop trying to use words to console the bereaved. Words don’t work! Do you know what works? MUSIC!! Send them a playlist and let music speak to their pain.
I’ll borrow King Solomon’s words from Ecclesiastes 1:13 “it’s a miserable business which God has given to the sons of man with which to busy themselves.” With this new found understanding of what is lined up for us on this earth, the miserable business of living: I have decided to cease not, wet eyes because that’s the way this world has been structured. You are born, you fall in unconditional love with your parents, they raise you to best of their abilities and then they die before you. This gut-wrenching pain never goes away, in fact what happens is we just get better at pretending that it doesn’t exist and that is what is killing many of us. We have failed to feel our feelings, we have failed to give grief a place at the table.
Grief is a classy wise elder, that will calmly sit you down and serve you tea you later realize was laced with the same poison you served her for years. Grief’s cure is grieving. Whatever that looks like for you, do it! The wise elder will thank you.
I choose to be seen through my tears. Drop Drop, Slow tears.
sueleya
Lovely