Whatever theory of grief I might find useful at any particular time, one thing is clear: the process is never as tidy as the theory – there is no linear journey through grief. Six years after Malcolm’s death a bout of severe depression brought me back to the very beginning of the grieving process: Denial.
I entered the hospital in a state of suicidal depression and found myself fantasizing about being with Malcolm. I began to speak about him in the present tense to other patients. So one of the first goals of my healing became overcoming denial and accepting his death, then once again letting him go. In order to let him go I needed to work through my guilt once again. But this time around I moved to a new place in the grieving process: I began to get angry with him.
Using a process of psychodrama in which someone sat on a chair and took the role of Malcolm, I began to tell him how much he had hurt his dad and his brother. Then I spoke from his point of view and told myself that Malcolm would not expect or want me to follow him, instead he would want me to stay with his dad and his brother. I am home now and mending well. As I look back over the last six weeks I am reminded how tenuous one’s grip on serenity can be and how arduous the process of grieving. But, despite the re-cycling of the cycle and the stepping backwards in the stages, I can clearly see a forward movement and a deepening of acceptance.
I know I will see Malcolm again, whether it is in the fleeting seconds of my death or in some future eternal moment of new life. For now the most important thing I can do is be “in the moment.” Not in the past, not in the future, just now. And be grateful.