When Grief Stops You In Your Tracks

Even as a death doula, there are times when grief can get the best of me. This month I got news that reminded me that no matter how closely I work with death and grief, I am still very much susceptible to the disabling effects of both. 

There I was just going about living my life when I learned that my dear friend Carrie died. To say this was unexpected is an understatement. It was a heart attack. A heart attack that broke my heart when it took her life. 

See, Carrie and I had a bond like no other. The story of our meeting sounds unbelievable - Hollywood couldn’t come up with anything as magical. I had just moved to New Orleans and was so new to the city that I still lived in a hotel in the French Quarter. I didn’t know anyone, except the doorman who took pity on me and sent me on a haunted walking tour. I was standing on one side of the street staring at a “haunted” building when my mirror image walked right in front of that building. OMG… was I seeing my own ghost on this haunted tour? WTF, New Orleans! 

The “ghost” and I stared at each other as we both walked in opposite directions. I’m sure neither of us thought much about this brief encounter again. Until that night! I convinced some women I met on the tour to go with me to a bar I had wanted to visit. As I exited the cab, the bar door opened and out came the “ghost”! My twin! We both grabbed each other and hugged like we had known each other forever. And we cried like we were long lost sisters. 

From that moment on, our bond was never broken. Just one week later, this amazing twin of mine walked over 2 miles in the pouring cold rain - at midnight - to rescue me from my first scary French Quarter experience. She had the flu that night. The flu! She wasn’t about to let anything stop her from rescuing her new bestie! Talk about a ride or die! 

We always laughed at how alike we were. We looked alike, even changing the color of our hair to the same color without knowing the other was doing it! We had the same silly sense of humor and desire to not take life too seriously. We loved each other in a way I had never loved a friend before. When we both moved away from New Orleans, it didn’t change our bond. Our hair still changed color in tandem without knowing it, and we could go months without talking but pick up like we just spoke the day before. 

Our last time to see each other in person was in 2012. That just doesn’t seem possible. Maybe the worst part? I have a ticket to fly to Florida to visit her. This flight voucher is now a constant reminder of how I let life get in the way of going to see her. I kept saying “when things slow down”. But life never slows down, and you can’t “make time”. You must “take time” for the things and people that are important to you.

I think this never-taken flight made my grief even more unbearable and caused me to withdraw into the grief. The grief had completely stopped me in my tracks. It had literally knocked the breath out of me. I was still able to have superficial conversations, post silly stuff on social media, and get through tasks that took no brain power. I wasn’t, however, able to do anything of real substance. It blinded me to the opportunities in front of me. It crippled me from doing the work I knew needed to be done. I couldn’t even focus on my doula business, because it was a constant reminder of my perceived failure at not being able to cope with my own grief.

I was blind-sided by my lack of ability to handle the immense pain I felt at the unexpected death of Carrie. Since 1996, she has always been there for me - in a way I didn’t know someone could be. I felt paralyzed by my grief in a way that was surprising to me.

I’m a death doula. I’ve trained for this, right? Yes, but I am still human and have had to allow myself grace as I sit with my grief and mourn the loss of my friend. Carrie entered my life as a “ghost”. My only peace in all of this is knowing she will now always be my real ghost! I long to be “haunted” in a way I never have before.

When grief takes you by surprise or sneaks up on you, don’t let it stop you in your tracks. Instead, allow yourself the time and patience needed to sit in that grief. Establish a ritual that honors what/who you are grieving. Set boundaries with others that honor your grief.

It doesn’t matter who you are – or what you do – we all face grief. We don’t often talk about it, which makes dealing with it even harder. Open the dialogue. Have the conversation. You might just be the one who allows others to feel comfortable handling their grief.