Distraction is Never the Goal
“How do you distract yourself?”
That’s a question I’ve been asked multiple times over the last several weeks. I understand why people ask me that. And I think they may just be using language that doesn’t actually relay what they mean.
How do you distract yourself?
My answer: “I don’t. Distracting myself isn’t the goal. I want to be present to the sorrow and grief that is mine. I want to honor my son’s life.”
I realize that can seem a bit obscure or lofty. And I don’t really care. I’m the one deciding how I move through this time with God.
How do you distract yourself?
I think what they mean to say is: how do you cope with your horror? Your daily life as it now is? What do you do to lift your spirits or at least get you out of bed in the morning? How do you not weep all day long?
Two thoughts (among many) I want to share today:
1. We really are terrible at mourning. I mean, really bad. (And sometime soon, I’ll share about the week that followed our David’s death.) Why do people think you should seek distractions from the pain of losing them? (“Losing them!” That’s another dumb thing to say. It’s not like I dropped David out of my pocket or misplaced him. He died.)
I’m not distracting myself. I’m facing this thing. I’m undone and wrecked that I’ll never hold him or hear a fresh idea from him or smell his distinct David scent again for likely a long time. And David mattered! He’s worth being very present to the grief of that loss. And grief, it turns out, is hard work, as my friend Cheryl has instructed me.
2. I’m being very deliberate in my mourning. The door has been opened to me, so I went inside. I took three months off to do nothing but whatever I felt I wanted to do. I want to pot a plant. I want to cry. I want to see that person. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to eat where there are loud or happy people nearby. I need to lie down. I want to sit and read a book or David’s cards and letters and journals. I want to sob and sob and sob…
Each day, I am being deliberate to the place God has invited me. And to be awake and present to it.
So I’m living fully alive in the sadness. I’m present and aware of and living fully alive in the deep, deep sadness of loss. And it’s very painful. And very, very real.
I’m real because God is so real.
~Nancy