The Notorious “Year Two”

The Notorious “Year Two”

In the world of grief writing and support communities, there is commonly talk about “year two”. Year two being different than year one, and, often it is said, it is worse than year one.

In my resistance towards other people’s opinions and commitment to figuring things out for myself, I resented those proclamations. Grieving is different for everyone, I would say. And true, it is.

Being “in the saddle” of grieving the loss of my decades-long soulmate, I have discovered a whole host of things that reading about the process never truly revealed. I have also lost both my parents, my brother, and best friends. This death, however, has really put me through the wringer.

Year one, the widows in my grief group and I have discovered was full of “firsts”. First holidays alone, first birthdays, anniversaries… It was also a time of feeling very disoriented and surreal. Our brains trying to grapple with this new reality. I highly recommend this book for brilliant insight into this phenomenon: The Grieving Brain: The Surprising Science of How We Learn from Love and Loss.

This extricating ourselves from our deceased partners was taking a lot of effort. More than we had realized it would. We also were, all of us, very tired out from having been caregivers. We agreed that respite times were absolutely necessary during this process. So, we changed the word “distraction” which felt blaming and judging, to “respite” which feels much more real and kind.

Year two. There is still a fatigue. We are all finding that grieving is work. All of us are doing our grief work. We participate in our support group, some of us have another, some of us have taken grief classes, and many of us work our regular jobs. Some of us have large families to keep track of. We try to do self-care – we know that is important. We meet monthly and laugh, cry, exchange tips, and generally just nurture these important friendships that have evolved out of our shared experiences.

Year two. Some surprises. For instance, I find myself falling into the mental trap of thinking “Oh, I have been through this phase already. I’m done with that! I’ve learned that lesson.” And then the spiraling aspect of grief comes whirling in and shows you more of that same lesson, whatever it might be.

Year two. Dawning on us that we don’t get “over” grief. We learn to live with it. Our essences, our selves, expand through this unasked-for pain and we find ourselves morphing and changing into new “me”-s instead of “we”-s. This growth and transformation is often unsettling, confusing, disorienting, exciting, familiar, and completely different. A total mish-mash in other words.

One thing I realized, in a new way, in the last few weeks is how important open, unstructured time is. Space and time to sit, walk, contemplate, sleep, hike, call a friend, go play with friends or family… We continue to walk an altered reality. Yes, we walk the take care of business reality too. I sometimes say the expression “Trust in Allah and tie up your camel.” We have to tie up our camels of this human life – paying bills, taking care of our health, working, relating with others, etc.

And, at the same time, this grief work needs respect and honoring – something sorely missing in most of our western culture. We need time to rest, make mistakes, cry, be silly, not know what the heck is going on or what we want to do. This is all part of it. Holding this mishmash with kindness can be supported by others going through this same territory. Only others who have or are traveling this path can understand.

My takeaway? Find others on this path. Ones who will listen and witness. Grief is a tribal experience, in our primal selves. We are not meant to go it as alone as often happens in this culture. You will know when the time is right to reach out for support, perhaps some one-on-one support at first and, eventually, through small groups.

One last topic is about the value of rituals. That ties in, as above, with our primal selves. Rituals are often visceral, not logical. Our healing happens in our bodies as well as our minds. That’s a big topic for my next post.

Thanks for reading.

Wishing you my best,
Nancy