I have suffered several losses—some of them within the same year. I can tell you with certainty that for each loss, the grieving period and process has been different. Grief and tears are not synonymous. Sometimes grief involves anger. Sometimes it involves depression. Sometimes it involves anxiety. And sometimes it is an all-consuming fire.
When I lost my grandmother Minnie Mae Goodrum in 1992, I was in middle school. I watched my mother and her siblings grieve. I watched each of them fall apart in their own way. At that time, I didn’t know that my longing for her was grief. Even now, I long for her.
My brother Fabian passed in 2014, a few days before his 40th birthday. I was in shock. I did not cry. My mother was my concern. I attempted to shield her, tried to give her what I thought she needed. I wish I’d captured the moment my daughter Zoe grabbed her uncle’s beard. She smiled. He smiled. They shared a laugh. Losing him stung. A lot. But there was no time for grief. My unsettling depression and newfound anxiety proved to me that I, in fact, was grieving even if I didn’t say it out loud.
When my grandfather Edgar Sr. passed in 2016, I was physically in the car on the way to see him. Literally driving. He was in the hospital but was doing better. The expectation was that he would be getting out of the hospital soon. My aunt called while I was enroute to tell me he’d taken his last breath. That pain. That one I wasn’t prepared for. When I arrived at the hospital he was still warm. I hugged him, kissed him, and sat next to him until he was taken away. I broke. But not for anyone to see. I felt like I had to be strong.
I allowed myself a few tears, but at this point my mother had lost both her parents and her son and she was not okay.
Neither was I. But my grief had to wait. I convinced myself that if I did not allow myself to feel, I was not grieving. My depression hit an all-time low and my anxiety was through the roof. My chest would pound uncontrollably; I would get dizzy spells. But I was okay, right?
Over time. I would have moments when I missed my grandfather’s wisdom. Moments when I missed his singing. I missed his old dirty truck. I missed the trips to Wendy’s to get a frosty and a six-piece nugget. I missed him. The pain of that loss has not found a home. It floats.
When I lost my father Robert in 2021, I was a bit more prepared. He allowed the doctors to tell me about his diagnosis in February. He passed in May on Memorial Day. With my father, I grieved the entire time. I cared for him and I grieved. I brought him food and I grieved. I made sure he ate and I grieved. I spent countless days and hours in hospitals and I grieved. I watched him slowly fade and I grieved. When he went to hospice, I grieved. And when he took his last breath, I completely fell apart. It all came rushing in and I. Just. Broke.
In that space, I did not grant myself grace.
I cut my grieving short to protect myself, protect my family, protect my daughter. She watched me, and though she cried at the thought of losing her grandfather, she told me she wanted to be strong for me. I gave her permission to feel her feelings because even at the age of seven, she wanted to cover me—much like I covered my mother.
There was a cost.
When I lost my uncle Edgar Jr. in 2021, my heart officially broke. I was no longer able to hold myself up. My uncle was everything to me. When he went to the hospital for pneumonia, there was no doubt he would get better. I went to see him every day and I kept my visitors passes from each day. I have them in a journal. I wasn’t prepared to lose him. I have officially lost every male elder that loved on me and protected me.
I learned during this process that grief is not linear. It is minute by minute. Day by day. Second by second. There are times when I am fine, and then there are times when I am not. I realized over the years that grief has no time limit. There is never a moment when you “get over” the losses.
My biggest loss was losing myself. I was too afraid to feel my feelings. I wanted to “keep pushing.” And I did—for a time. But then, it all came crashing down. My husband saw my brokenness, depression, and anxiety. He saw the emptiness. He tried to fix me, but he could not fix the voids.
They exist. And that is okay. I learned after my breakdown to give myself grace to grieve. I’ve learned to feel my feelings, cry my tears. Most of all, I’ve learned to love with every ounce of my being.
Melanie Wilkerson says
Thank so much for this story. I loss my best friend . My mom! I I I immediately knew that I needed help with this grieving process. Your story has identified with me beyond words. Thank you for sharing. I look forward to reading more of your story.
Danielle Shelton says
Melanie, Thank you so much to reading my story. I’m so glad this helped heal a part of you. It helped heal me too! Thank you for leaving a comment. My heart is full. Hugs.
kimberly moore says
Thank you, Sis, for sharing, encouraging and taking steps to heal. We see you. And appreciate your insight so we, too, may heal and grieve. Simultaneously.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Kimberly,
Thank you for taking time out of your day to acknowledge this post. Your time and kind words are appreciated. Hugs.
Jackie Thomas says
Thank you for your story…I’m grieving now trying to give myself grace. I lost my 22 year old son Tyjuan in December 2021. Yesterday was the day he went in the hospital and never came back to us. I wasn’t prepared even though the doctors said he wouldn’t come home. My grief is stronger now than then because I haven’t allowed myself to really feel the pain trying to protect my other son who was 18 at the time. I’m going through alot of different emotions right now and I appreciate your thoughts on this process and your kinds words of advice.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Jackie, I’m sorry to read about your son, Tyjuan. I pray that over time you find the peace you need. Grief is a process. Give yourself time to cry. Time to laugh at old jokes and funny moments. And time to just hold one of Tyjuan’s shirts and hug it for a while. It’s okay. The truth about your other son, is even if you don’t show the pain, he knows it’s there and he is trying to protect you too. If you give yourself permission, he will give himself permission. You should talk to him, laugh with him, cry with him. Share your pain so he knows he doesn’t have to protect you. Give yourself time and give yourself grace. Hugs to you and your family
Krystal Henry says
This spoke to me immensely Danielle. I am in a season of grieving my mother, who is currently in hospice care. I find it difficult, at times, to give myself space to grieve and feel the feelings when they arise because of the myriad of responsibilities I have to handle. I’m slowly learning how to lean into them when they come.
Danielle Shelton says
Hi Krystal,
I am hugging you from here. Hospice is hard because it isn’t instant. It’s slow. So you grieve every, single day. Or at least I did. It can be hard to find the right words to say to the right things to do but guess what? You don’t have to get it “right”. All you have to do is keep showing up. When those feelings come, give them space. Truthfully, you may have to create space for them. It’s okay not to have it figured out. None of us do. Hugs to you.
Leslie C says
Thank you for sharing. I can relate. I thought I was a “functional griever” able to compartmentalize. But eventually it caught up to me and imploded. I have to address it moment by moment. Thankfully, I have people who care for me and creative expression. It’s a process.
Danielle Shelton says
Leslie,
I thought I was functional too. At some point I convinced myself that I wasn’t grieving at all. But then, it all came crashing down and I realized my new found anxiety had a name… several names… And so, I learned over time to make space for my feelings. I didn’t like it but I needed it. Thank you for acknowledging my process and your own. Hugs.
Robbin Caracter says
Wow! I can really relate. I recently retired and moved to Texas to be with my daughter. I had so many losses and tried to push through. Next week it will be 2 years since two of my closest friend died two days apart. I’m allowing myself grace to grieve. ❤️🙌🏾❤️🙏🏾❤️🎶❤️👌🏽
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Robbin, I’m sorry to read about your friends. Grief can be hard and it is unforgiving because at some point, you have to deal with it! Remember, that you matter and that your feelings matter. Make time for them. Hugs to you.
Yolanda says
I felt this. Deeply. I will remember to give myself the ‘grace to grieve’.
Danielle Shelton says
Yolanda,
Yes, please give yourself grace. Your deserve it. And don’t run from moments. Allow them to happen. Give your feelings space. You are wonderfully made and thus must not forget that you are so important and loved. It’s okay. Hugs.
Luana Fitzgerald says
Thank for sharing Danielle.
My beautiful daughter, succumbed to living with depression for over 30 years on Oct 28th. Today I am struggling. Your words, were consoling, and right on time. There is a scream within me that comes out – mostly in anger. The words grace to grieve showing up in my notifications was a God send. Thank you again for sharing.
Danielle Shelton says
Luana, I am so glad that my words found you and that you found comfort in them. You cannot fix what has already taken place but you can give yourself grace. Feel those feelings when you need to. Remember, there is no finish line. There is only relief from one moment to the next. Hugs to you.
Sherice McQueen says
Thank you for this! I lost my brother, my only sibling in June. He was my ride or die. It has taken my breath away but I too have been strong to shield my mom from this unbearable hurt & loss. Thank for your words. They gave me a glimpse of putting into words what I’ve been feeling. May we both find the peace and strength to endure!
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Sherice, I’m so glad this post could give you words. It can be hard to find words for how we feel. I know all too well what it’s like to lose a sibling. The pain can sit. And that’s okay. Just remember not to let it stay there. Hugs.
Sharon says
Good morning
I am going through an issue, not knowing how to feel about the death of my daughter in law. Age 44. Her and my son went no contact about 5 years ago from the entire family. Before that we spent holidays together and took family vacations. I still loved her and we were not included in the funeral or burial. How do I grieve this and have closure?
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Sharon, My goodness that must be hard. My heart cries for you. Truthfully, closure does not exists in people, it exists in you. Because death is final, there is other person give us the words we need. Try to release the hurt. Because you won’t be able to grieve if there is anger underneath the hurt. It has to come to the surface. Once you deal with that, you can attempt to deal with the feelings of loss. Give yourself time. And know that you don’t need anyone to validate your feelings; they are valid. Hugs.
Renae H says
Thank you for sharing your grief. It hit home. The month of December although a very joyous time is also a very sad time for me. I lost my Grandmother and Father with in a 4 year 11 month time frame. And even though I tell myself that I’m okay – in truth, I’m not. Today is one of those “I’m not okay” days. Their Anniversaries are coming, and I feel so heavy. But, I will give myself grace to grieve, feel my feelings and cry my tears.
Be blessed as you continue to give yourself grace to grieve, feel your feelings and cry your tears.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Renae,
Give yourself time. As much time as you need. It’s okay to have “heavy” moments. But it’s also okay to have joyous moments. To laugh and cry at the same damn time. Remembering them with love and laughter. Hugs.
Amye Mathews says
Most def! Grief comes at different times, in different waves, with different emotions. There is no right way, wrong, right time…. I believe if you hold it in, at some point you will break. We all try to be strong, but some times being strong is letting go and being weak. I’ve learned sometimes it’s minute by minute. Sometimes it’s day by day. You have to do what works for you, but don’t do nothing.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Amye,
Yes! Thank you! Live every single day with intention.
Marvel says
Thank you for sharing your story. It is helping me to deal with the loss of both my parents in a two and half month timeframe. I am giving myself grace to grieve.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Marvel,
I’m so sorry for your loss. Yes, give yourself time. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to laugh at the good times. It’s okay to have joy. It’s okay to miss them. It’s also okay to keep on living a life happiness for them. Hugs to you.
Jannette Henry-Davenport says
This is an excellent article on grief. It gave me additional insight on grief and my journey.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Jannette,
I’m so glad if gave you insight and is helping you on your journey. Hugs to you.
Jo Ann Henderson says
Well done, well written. Like you, I am what people call stoic. That is inappropriate terminology for what I, and perhaps you, are feeling. I never realized my grieving process until a few years ago when my daughter told me, “mom, I’ve never seen you cry at a death or a funeral”. She was right, but I was not conscious of my lack of display of emotion. Though, unlike you, my lack of affect has nothing to do with my generosity of support for the feelings of others. I simply don’t feel it in the same way. However, I am fully connected to the finality of death and the looming feeling of absence of my deceased loved ones. Thank you for sharing your story and your feelings. Perhaps your story will resonate with others as it did for me.
Danielle Shelton says
Hello Jo Ann,
I’m so glad that my story resonated with you. It seems we have a great deal in common. My goal was to hopefully meet people where they were and give them comfort. I wanted to provide a space that saying “how you grieve is okay, as long as you grieve.” Hugs to you.
Vera King says
Thank You for sharing your story, during the Holidays it’s hard for me first because I suffer from. seasonal depression, 2 I lost my oldest sister and Father which his Birthday is Christmas Day The memories are bittersweet, because the Doctors and Nurses at the Hospital were my Father was set up for all of my Siblings to have Santa come and visit us bring us gifts , Dolls for the 6 girls and toy cars for the boys it was supposed to be a distraction , But, that’s what’s fresh in our minds and that’s what we have as memories We still Grieve and never gave ourselves Grace Thank You I’m sharing your story with my Family, Prayerfully after 50 years we will start our Grief with Grace
M says
Thank you for this. Went through something similar with being stuffing for everyone and not knowing how to raise in the moment and grieve properly, also leading to the breakdown and anxiety and depression after a while. But God. And thank you again for your testimony.
Melissa says
This was right on time, my father transitioned in March… and I am still learning how to navigate giving myself the grace to grieve.
Tina Louise Clark says
This is so beautiful and truly resonates with me. Thank you for sharing.
GWENDEE says
Thank you so much for your writing on grief and loss. We as African American women seem to feel that we always have to be strong. In not allowing yourself to feel during times of loss we do great harm to our physical and spiritual selves.