You Didn't Make The Mess: Grief Edition

I didn’t make this mess, so why am I the one cleaning it up? On grief, anticipatory mourning, and the journal prompts that finally moved me.

Ok…So why do I have to clean it up???

Any parent of a child whose lips move has heard a variant of this question. There’s a mess. The kid didn’t make the mess, but you’re asking him to clean it up. His cousins came over and threw every cushion miles away from the couch, ate snacks and left crumbs and wrappers everywhere, dirty plates on the kitchen counter etc. Or maybe it's his little brother that poured water on the floor. When you ask him to clean up afterwards, he is understandably upset at the unfairness of life. “That’s life my son”, I always say.

A few days ago my baby sister met me updating my journal prompts. I started journaling a year ago and it's been absolutely life-affirming looking back at where I was 3, 6, 9 or 12 months ago and how many of the things I wished for have come to pass. Aneesa assumed I was journaling and offered to come back later. I told her to come in and explained that I was updating my journal prompts. “Oh”. I laughed and explained that I was realising that I was covered in poop, metaphorically speaking, and had been waiting for a mythical someone to come and clean it up. (I’ve written here extensively about my struggles to enjoy the great life I’ve been blessed with).

“Mmmm!” was her response. I went on to tell her how I assumed the reason I wasn’t able to enjoy and delight in my good fortune was that not enough time had passed and eventually, just by the years rolling by, I would be far enough removed from the losses and be free from the trauma and pain. Apparently not. Who knew time doesn’t heal anything?! Seems intentionally processing emotions, consistent gratitude practice and sheer force of will is required. Wow.

I can trace the moment this clicked to just a few days ago, but several things culminated in the epiphany. I watched a video where someone said that envy is actually you being upset with God’s decree over you; you’re asking God why someone else deserves something you’ve wanted and prayed for and not you. If you know me, I’m endlessly fascinated by the concept of God’s will vs free will. I did a deep dive many years ago and realised that while we may have some free will, most things are predestined by circumstances long before we were conceived. Basically, a banana tree may one day produce a plantain-sized banana, but it’ll never fruit Oranges. The lifespan of my loved ones was predestined; a fact I often claim I know but somehow I’ve never understood. Or even engaged with tbh. That video led me to the second piece of the epiphany puzzle; I’ve been waiting for God to bring my loved ones back. Return what’s mine. Because I can’t believe that I could 1. have something taken away from me with no explanation 2. have to clean up the mess #1 made of my life. That I’d be the one to have to make sense of what I have left is so so abhorrent to me. I didn’t choose this so why am I the one figuring out what’s next? How to love openly again? How to treasure moments? How to stop imagining everyone’s death? Why?

A week or so ago, I was playing peekaboo with my baby nephew. While he was giggling I was thinking about how he would be so lonely at my age because we’d all be dead by then. Even typing this I can’t believe the absurdity of that thought. 2065. I was thinking about 2065. Absurder yet, is how I’d normalised such musings as being “realistic”. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’ve had for a while now that alot of these intrusive thoughts are an elaborate form of avoidance. I guess the logic is that if I remain in a place of grief and pain, then the inevitable grief and pain that’s intrinsic to life won’t affect me. Only a standing person can fall down etc. Anticipatory mourning as a way to avoid being blindsided yet again. It’s taken me years to learn to speak to myself gently and kindly, but the need for a swift kick in the ass was glaring. Nothing was going to change without deliberate effort.

I typed into AI “Fear of losing loved ones to death is making me avoid connection”. I wasn’t expecting to read anything I didn’t already know; I just wanted confirmation of my self-diagnosis. Which I got. TLDR is I’ve made sense of life as this equation:

LOVE = LOSS = PAIN

Though chatgpt gave many lovely suggestions and even a 4-week treatment plan, all I took away were these three new journal prompts:

• How do I connect today?
• Where did my fear of loss show up and how do I soothe it?
• How did I share laughter, music, a meal? And did I focus on shared joy?

Also picked one reminder/mantra which my baby sister kindly helped me create a digital post-it of so I see it every time I unlock my phone:

The phrasing is so key. I can let that be enough. Meaning it’s enough, now I can let it be what it’s always been.