I came to the realization a few months back that I have never truly allowed myself to grieve. It may seem odd, considering that last year I dedicated an entire season of a podcast to the topic of grief titled "All There Is" while sorting through my dad's belongings, who passed away when I was 10, and my brother's, who passed away when I was 21, and my mom's, who passed away in 2019. However, going through loss and actually experiencing the process of grieving are two distinct experiences.
After the first season of the podcast concluded in November, I took a hiatus from sorting through the boxes because it had become too overwhelming. The final episode of the podcast featured voicemails from listeners sharing what they had learned from their experiences with grief, and while the responses were powerful, I had only managed to listen to about 200 of them before selecting a few to include in the episode. There were over 1,000 messages that I hadn't had the chance to hear, and I felt guilty about it. Initially, I had not planned on creating a second season of the podcast, but a few months ago, I finally listened to those unheard messages - which amounted to more than 46 hours of recordings. It turned out to be one of the most emotionally impactful experiences of my life.
I can't quite articulate it, but listening to those messages stirred something within me that I had long ignored. I decided to resume going through my parents' and brothers' belongings, starting with a box of my father's papers. He was a writer, and at the top of the stack was an essay he had written over 40 years ago titled "The Importance of Grieving." In the essay, he delved into the consequences of children not being able to properly grieve, quoting a psychologist who stated, "when a person is unable to complete a mourning task in childhood, he either has to surrender his emotions in order that they do not suddenly overwhelm him, or else he may be haunted constantly throughout his life, with a sadness for which he can never find an appropriate explanation."
Upon reading that, I realized for the first time: that's me. That's exactly what I did when my dad passed away in 1978. I buried my fear, sadness, and anger deep within myself and hardly shed a tear. A decade later, when my brother Carter died by suicide, I buried those feelings even deeper, thinking I could keep all that grief buried forever. But grief doesn't work that way. As one podcast listener told me, "It has to go somewhere."
I now understand that by burying my grief, I've also buried my capacity to experience joy, and I no longer want to do that. I can't. I want to experience all that life has to offer.
I am producing another season of the podcast in order to connect with individuals who have adapted to living with their grief and to gain insights from their experiences. You can now listen to the new season of "All There Is" on various podcast platforms.
If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or mental health issues, please reach out to a trained counselor by dialing 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, or visit their website at 988 Lifeline.