Grief's False Spring

Grief's False Spring

Just when you thought things were getting sunny...

     There is a peculiar phenomenon that hits the streets of Maple Valley every February. It is the sight of neighbors emerging in cargo shorts and flip flops the moment the thermometer hits forty five degrees. You can spot us a mile away at Disneyland too because we are the ones celebrating tropical weather while the locals are bundled in parkas. It is the False Spring Delirium which is that desperate and beautiful hope that the gray is finally over. Lawnmowers come out of hibernation to cut the mossy yards and leaf blowers roar to life hoping for a stint of dry weather to corral those sticky thick blankets of leaves. After months of chilly rain the reprieve is a blessing. People become energized and neighbors play tennis in the street while the local playgrounds are packed.

      Then suddenly the weather snaps back to being dreary. Everyone becomes a bit cranky and crestfallen and sad to return to the dismal Big Dark. In case you were not aware Washington actually has twelve seasons rather than just four:

  1. Winter: A solid block of darkness where the rain feels like a personal vendetta from the sky.
  2. False Spring: That glorious forty eight hour window of fifty five degree sunshine that tricks you into washing your car and buying tomato starts.
  3. Second Winter: The April Fools cold snap that kills the tomato starts you just bought.
  4. Spring of Deception: The birds are singing but you still need a parka and a beanie just to get the mail.
  5. Third Winter: Usually hits in late April and brings a return to the gray that makes you question why you ever decided to live here.
  6. The Pollening: A week where everything from your car to your lungs is coated in neon yellow Douglas Fir dust.
  7. Actual Spring: A glorious four day window where the rhododendrons explode and you briefly forget what seasonal depression even means.
  8. June Gloom: Locally known as Junuary where it is fifty eight degrees and misty until exactly July fifth.
  9. Summer: Also known as Construction Season where we all pretend we do not live in a temperate rainforest.
  10. Hell’s Front Porch: That one week in August where it is ninety five degrees and nobody has air conditioning and we all sleep on the floor next to a box fan.
  11. False Fall: One crisp sixty degree morning in September that tricks you into wearing flannel and buying a pumpkin spice latte.
  12. Second Summer: A final and desperate blast of eighty degree heat before the Big Dark officially settles in.

 

     There is a point along your grief journey when you stop crying for hours every day. The paralyzing brain fog begins to dissipate, and you feel capable of remembering more than just taking a shower and taking out the trash. Your brain is starting to come back online. One day you find yourself engaging in life again and you feel lighter. You spend time with a friend or check items off your to do list. You think that perhaps the hell that has been grief is finally over.

 

      Then it hits. You catch yourself laughing for the first time since they passed away and you feel like a bad person. How could anyone be happy when the universe has been split apart? Suddenly you are in a downward spiral. Your mood plummets and drives you into the ground with guilt and sorrow. It was a cruel hope you think as you find yourself stuck in the depths of despair. You thought you were getting better but you have realized it was just a False Spring.

 

     If you find yourself feeling guilty for a moment of levity please remember this. Joy is not a betrayal of the person you lost. It is a sign that your heart is beginning the brave work of growing around your grief. This up and down nature is the nonlinear path of grief. It is an unpredictable roller coaster that vacillates in depth and duration. Just when you think you are better you feel like you have gone backward. I am here to tell you that is not true. Over time the general trend is upward but your grief will still ask for your attention. And that attention is necessary.

 

     Initially when we lose a loved one we are focused on survival. Our minds hover in fight or flight mode and are unable to process the complex issues around the loss. During this time the prefrontal cortex or the brain CEO goes into the bunker. This part of the brain is responsible for logic and problem solving and managing emotions. When the CEO finally comes back online it is because your brain has decided the imminent danger has passed. However, once the CEO is back in the office it has to process the paperwork that was put on hold.  Just like the plentiful rains of Western Washington, those thoughts can be overwhelming. Dates like birthdays or anniversaries are now processed on a deeper and more painful level. You begin to notice the aftershocks such as the loss of financial security or social connections or even your own identity. This pain is not a sign of failure but a signal of healing. You are finally strong enough to process the Second Winter of your loss.

 

     As we work through the tasks of mourning the heart will feel heavy, then light then, heavy again, and so on. This back and forth is a normal part of accommodating your new life. First you must accept the reality of the loss, which is the head versus heart struggle. Your head knows they are gone but your heart keeps expecting them to walk through the door. Next you process the pain of grief which involves actually sitting with the physical and emotional pain rather than numbing or avoiding it. Then you adjust to a world without the deceased by learning to do the tasks they used to handle and figuring out who you are now that your role has changed. Finally, you find an enduring connection while embarking on a new life. This is not about moving on but moving with. It is about finding a place for your loved one in your heart by keeping their memory alive while still allowing yourself to live and find joy in the present.

 

     The pain of grief is long suffering. I often tell my clients that while the first year is brutal the second year packs a wallop, too. Realizing that these occasions will be permanently without your loved one is sobering. But realize this. Back and forth is not failing. It just means you are human and for right now the weather has changed. You are not back at the beginning. You have already survived the hardest part. Right now you are simply navigating another part of the storm.

 

Disclaimer:  This article is for informational purposes only and not intended as a substitute for therapy.  Please contact me or another qualified mental health professional to help you or your loved one with their grief journey.  

 

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