the Grief Ball & Pain Button

My folks passed away last year. Yes, BOTH of them. It was quite unexpected, and it has been a very difficult time for our family to say the least.

I am no stranger to loss though. I have experienced it before. I lost my grandfather and grandmother as a young adult, my little brother from leukemia when I was a teen, co-workers, a favorite college professor, and beloved family pets throughout the years. One of the benefits of these past losses is I have learned that while grief never goes away completely, it does lessen with time. I have also learned grief and the associated pain can RANDOMLY resurface – without any warning. And without your permission. 

Sure, sometimes the grief will arrive in a predictable fashion or as anticipated. Anyone that has experienced a loss will tell you that the anniversary of that person’s death, their birthday, or special holidays are touchtone days. I admit I have already started thinking about what would be my little brother’s 50th birthday, even though it is still a couple of years away. And I am secretly (or now maybe not so secretly) dreading Mother’s Day this year. But we know those days are coming, and so we tend to be more emotionally prepared. We are not caught off guard. Thus, our grief seems more manageable. We feel more in control of our grief, pain, and emotions.

At other times, grief seems to come out of nowhere, catching us completely by surprise. To best explain it, I’ll share what I refer to as the grief ball and pain button in a box.

The Grief Ball and Pain Button

Imagine a box with a ball inside of it. And imagine that on one wall of the inside of the box is a big bright red button that is clearly labeled “PAIN”. The ball is labeled “GRIEF”.

When we are first faced with a loss, the ball – representing our grief – is huge. It is all consuming. It fills the box and is constantly and relentlessly pressing on the pain button. It can feel unbearable and overwhelming. With time, however, the grief ball shrinks in size and thus presses on the pain button less and less. Making our pain less constant (thank goodness, right?). We can then begin to return to a life that is not dominated with grief. Perhaps, this is what people mean when they say that time heals. We find our new “normal” and start to move forward in life.

But, the problem is that as the grief ball recedes it has a tendency to bounce around. Mostly unpredictably. (Picture a ball ricocheting around.) And the box, housing the ball of grief and pain button, can get jostled, bumped, and even shaken at times. Causing the grief ball to become activated and behave erratically. The grief ball may even swell in size.

When the shrunken ball of grief becomes activated, the pain button can get pushed more frequently and with greater force. The pain button also seemingly gets pushed more indiscriminately.

I recently attended a funeral with my husband for one of his colleagues that passed away from cancer. I had no inkling that it would be an emotional day for me. After all, I didn’t know the person, and I was just going for moral support. But once I got there and was preparing to sign the guest book and offer condolences, my pain button got activated. Zing! Out of nowhere, my grief ball had without warning activated the pain button. 

Maybe if I had seen it coming, then I would have been better prepared. Instead, I had to step into the hallway to compose myself. Throughout the memorial service I found my pain button getting activated. Repeatedly! Over and over and over again. It was as if my grief ball had just become fully re-inflated and was leaning on the red pain button. Ugh!

When my parents passed away, my husband had some of the most difficult tasks when it came to cleaning out my parents home. Surprisingly, one of these tasks was cleaning out the refrigerator. He was deeply saddened and emotionally taken aback by this task. He said that as he was throwing out the ice cream they had in the freezer and other food items they purchased, that he was struck by the frailty of life and the loss of hope. They had purchased food that they had intended to prepare and eat and had never gotten to. Neither he nor I will ever look at an elderly person in the grocery store the same. I secretly say a prayer for them.

I share this because, once when he was purchasing something that was similar to what he had discarded from my parents’ refrigerator, my husband just kind of froze for a moment in the grocery store aisle. He got a little teary eyed and I knew that the grief ball had just hit its mark. It is amazing how accurate the grief ball can be when aiming for the pain button.

If you have experienced loss then you can probably relate to the idea of the grief ball and the big red pain button getting activated. If you are in the middle of grieving a loss, then know that while the grief ball and pain button never go away, the size of the ball does minimize with time. It becomes less animated and erratic as well. 

For those times when the box gets jostled – causing the grief ball to become animated and trigger the pain button – know this is part of the cycle of grief. Be kind to yourself. Be patient. Reach out. Give the grief ball time to settle down. And maybe even take a moment to be glad that you had something worth grieving. 

Grieving with you,