I’ve spent three days trying to find a good way to start this blog. I wanted to reference Kobe – but I don’t feel knowledgable enough in the basketball world to have input. I wanted to talk about my own experiences – but I don’t think we’re on that level yet.
How do you start an essay on grief? Is there anything to say?
I’ll just write how I feel.
After the horrible, horrible news of the death of Kobe Bryant and the eight other beautiful souls on that helicopter, I spent hours, days searching up Kobe highlights. I think I watched every single tribute there is on Youtube. For about a week and a half, I cried every night. Some were little tears that escaped my eyes – some felt like constant streams that I didn’t know how to control.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Gianna.
When someone dies, it’s like your heart has no other option but to feel every single emotion there is. Everything seems to be amplified. You try so hard through-out the day to ignore the fact that there is now emptiness where someone used to be, but the second you let your mind slip, that looming sorrow takes over. You get stuck on the “what if’s?”
My mother lost three of her family members in less than two years. I know, it’s hard for me to comprehend too. She went through heartbreak, after heartbreak, after heartbreak – needing to return to Taiwan each time. I can’t imagine the exhaustion. She lost her nephew, who was only 18 years old, her father, and her sister. My aunt’s passing, though, was the most unexpected.
We were in a hotel room in Washington, just my dad, mom, and me, when the message was relayed to her on Line. Her cries were filled with such deep pain – a mixture of sorrow, regret, and hopelessness. As a devout Christian, she kept asking, “Why God?” causing her faith to ripple. As an atheist, I asked the same. How could I ease her suffering? All I could do was hold her and cry with her.
Through reading a lot of essays and watching a lot of videos on grief, I’ve learned that there isn’t much you can do to actually take away someone’s pain. I learned that saying “Everything will be okay,” will probably do more harm than good. How do we know that everything will be okay? We don’t. In fact, someone just died – things probably won’t be okay for a while. We need to be empathetic to the grieving soul and understand that white lies are no better than real lies. Instead, you can ask “How are you doing today?” Not just “How are you doing?” When we omit the “today,” it shows that we don’t understand that every day is a struggle. We choose to be oblivious to the fact that they are constantly hurting. When we include the “today,” they realize that we know they are doing the best they can just to get through each day.
We should be open and personal. Tip-toeing around that person, acting like they are a piece of glass, makes them feel even more alienated than they already do. Be vulnerable, establish boundaries.
I think maybe last year, I watched this interview between Anderson Cooper and Stephen Colbert. It was right after Anderson Cooper’s mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, had passed away. Both men have experienced tremendous grief in their lifetime, and as a result, the interview was very raw. It felt more like a conversation between two intelligent grown men. Cooper and Colbert confide in one another, sharing their own experiences to try and mend their wounds. Both of them reveal that when people reached out to share their personal stories, it made them feel more comfortable. It made them feel like they weren’t alone in this. This lead to an insightful discussion on the importance of normalizing the vocalization of people experiencing grief.
The conversation is sprinkled with beautiful wisdom from both parties, exposing the public to a newfound level of sensitivity that should be destigmatized. Colbert preaches religion’s impact in helping him through the grieving process, as Cooper still has many questions that don’t seem to have answers. Despite their polarized perspectives, the two converse with maturity and an open mind.
Grief has no end.
It’s unsettling; it’s uncomfortable; it’s the truth.
The worlds of these people are crumbling. So, what to do when someone you care about is grieving? You can give love. A lot of love. Pour your heart out to them to keep theirs from completely breaking. Cry with them, take away some of their tears. Hold them close so their minds don’t drift too far away.
I was originally going to title this blog, “The Other Side of Grief,” but then I realized there is no getting over grief. I’m still going to be crying about January 26th, 2020 for the next few months, maybe years, all it’ll take is seeing the #24 jersey crowned in purple and gold. I know my mom is constantly hurting, she tries to be so strong but pieces of her life are gone forever. I wish there was more I could do for her.
I will never forget Lucas Gerber, and I know my sadness will never disappear.
But, remember. Yes. Grief has no end; however, neither does love.
This is so heartbreaking yet so heartwarming at the same time. I love your message behind this blog. Grief has no end, but neither does love so enjoy those around you before it’s too late. Make sure they’re doing okay and really connect with them– no surface level conversations, actually be INTERESTED in what they have to say. As humans, we are so focused on ourselves that we don’t stop to realize that others are going through similar things as us. This piece made me want to tell my family how much I love them. Great job 🙂
Jessica, I must confess- you have done it again. You have brought much light to an issue that most of us must confront at some point in our lives- the death of a person close to us. I know that your blog is probably the most thought provoking blog in AP Lit.
My father had lost his parents in a span of a year- first came his father, who slipped, hit his head on the floor & died later. Then came his mother, unable to accept the truth of her husbands death by practically starving herself to death. My grandmother couldn’t grieve in a healthy manner. Even though she had wisened because of her age, the knowledge of how to cope with grief wasn’t bestowed upon her. My father, who had a falling out with them after being kicked out of his home at the age of 18, was ready to move on & forget about that ugly past of his. I wasn’t affected much by their deaths either. I barely got to know them. I went to my grandfathers funeral. The only few things I remember are my grandfathers body wrapped in white cloth. His mouth wide open as if he was frozen mid-sentence. My grandmother, aunt & mother wailing for a long time. And his body burning in the bed of coconuts in the cremation pyre as the brahmin priest added ghee to the raging fire. I remember my cousins with tear trails on their cheeks. All that, & I never felt a thing. They were very distant from me & my father made sure of that. I must say that to this day,……. I wish I would’ve known them well enough. I’m positive Kobe had a few people like that. Someone who knew him, but wish they could’ve known more about him. As an outspoken atheist, I feel a tinge of guilt when it comes to the death of a person as I know many people use faith as a source of comfort. But I strongly believe that people like me can provide comfort as well. The loss of a human life & the comfort that a person needs after that, is not solely the expertise of a single religion or religion in general, it is a human expertise. Nature has gifted us with great cornucopia of life. & this life is distinctly human shared by everyone- the skeptics & the religious alike.
P.S- I would love to hear your journey leading to freedom from theism, if you are so inclined. Always good to hear another persons story.