From The Heart Of Ken Shiplet

It’s been one month today since Carol went to be with the Lord. When people ask me how I’m doing, my standard answer is “I’m fine and then I’m not and then I am and then I’m not and then I am.”

Last Friday, I was not fine. By six in the evening an overwhelming gloom of depression had covered over me like a heavy blanket. I was all alone and lonely in this big house of mine with no one but Roxie (my dog).

That afternoon I had gone by the funeral home and picked up Carol’s death certificate. I would not let myself look at it because I knew that it was another symbol of her being gone.

Carol died the day after Valentine’s Day. A few days before that I had bought her a helium balloon shaped like a heart which said “I love you.” I tied it on the foot of her bed but I never knew for sure if she actually saw it and recognized it. When they came to take the hospital bed out of the house, I untied it and let it float to ceiling and it had been there for days.

Already filled with heaviness, I suddenly saw that the string on the balloon was now touching the floor. I lost it, becoming completely overwhelmed with tears of emotion. Seeing that the balloon was losing its power reminded me that Carol had lost her power and overwhelmed me with the agony of not knowing for sure if she saw it and understood the symbolism of my love for her behind that “silly little balloon.”

What do you do to escape from your agony? I went to the freezer to eat some “comfort food,” ice cream. What did I see? Carol’s favorite ice cream, Braum’s Mint Chocolate Chip, left over from Christmas. There was no eating of ice cream now – only more weeping and wailing from my soul.

David Willets refers to this overwhelming attack on our emotions as “the grief monster.” In his book, G͟r͟i͟e͟v͟e W͟e͟l͟l͟ L͟i͟v͟e͟ W͟e͟l͟l͟ he writes, “The reason I tag this emotion as a ‘monster’ is because most of us are scared of it; we dread confronting it or we run from it as fast as we can.”

The grief monster had struck me hard and there was no running from it. So what did I do? I called my sister, Kay. Kay has always been my “go to person” for both the bad and the good in my life. I said to her, “I don’t want your sympathy and I don’t want you to try to fix me. I just want to cry with someone and you’re it.” That conversation became the relief valve which helped me to release all of that pinned up grief for that moment.

Here is what I want to say to anyone who is grieving. How we handle our grief will determine our future. We will either work through our grief or we will get stuck in our grief. Being stuck leads to a life of continued anger, depression and relational difficulties. I have chosen to journey through my grief.

We were not made to grieve alone. For sure, our grief is unique to us. But we must allow others to come alongside of us and grieve with us. We have been called to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). To not reach out to friends for help is a pride that we cannot afford to have.

David Willets also writes, “Actually, the grief monster is sent to help heal the brokenness of your grief. Ironically many of the huge things we fear, dread and run from become small and insignificant as we discover what they really are.”