Maybe you've heard your dad or your great aunt utter this exclamatory idiom when expressing some sort of dismay or irritation. Charlie Brown said it all the time when voicing his frustration. But in all seriousness, is there anything good about grief?
Grief accompanies us all in this mortal journey. For some of us, it comes and goes, with short visits that may last a few weeks or so before the busyness of our lives begins to shoo it out the door.
For others, grief makes itself at home, decorating the walls of our minds with reminders of the sorrows we bear, of dashed hopes, devastating health woes, financial hardships, faith crises, memories of better times, and the lost loved ones we ache for.
At times, grief makes itself the focal point, overshadowing everything else because it's all we can feel—it's all we can focus on through the tears that fill our eyes.
And yet is grief always an unwelcome visitor or a despised roommate? Is there anything good about grief and all its accompanying emotions that we can learn to appreciate?
In the midst of our struggles and most overcoming sadness, I think most of us would say, No, there is nothing good that comes from feeling this way.
Throughout periods of my life, I have felt dizzy with disappointment and overwhelmed by the unexpected loss of family members and friends. This past month alone has been particularly difficult for me with the passing of two dear people: my aunt Corey, whom I loved and admired and worked closely with; and my friend Paul, whose extended family I've known for most of my life—I've been teaching his youngest children piano lessons for the last five years, and the endearment I feel for them makes me ache for the grief they, his beautiful wife, and their family are feeling.
Navigating my mom's stage IV gastric cancer has weighed heavy on me and my family since she was diagnosed in September 2019. It feels like a storm cloud has been following us around since we received that news, sometimes thundering, sometimes just sprinkling, but always making our skies a bit gray. We mourn the loss of my mom's health and vitality—her life has never been the same as we've watched her suffer through hundreds of hours of chemotherapy and its deteriorating side effects.
We could all make long lists of the people and the things we grieve. No one is exempt from it. I have to muster a lot of inner strength to get through my toughest times and keep pressing on. Living with grief never feels good. It beats me down, and I'm left exhausted and numb.
But what helps me get back up? Even if that dark cloud follows me around indefinitely, what can I do to try to feel the warm sunlight and see past the storm looming above me?
For me, the good from my grief comes from knowing that I am an eternal being having an earthly experience. I was raised to believe that I am a daughter of Heavenly Parents, and I have come to know that for myself. And with this knowledge, I can face tragedies and trauma with hope and trust in God and His will for me during this life, come what may.
This mortal existence is not "it" for us. Since I was very young, I have felt a deep-seated sense of homesickness—of feeling like I know I belong somewhere else. Mourning the deaths of people who are close to me makes me turn my thoughts heavenward. And then I am reminded of why I am here. Why any of us are here.
We have a divine destiny that transcends our current state. There is a loving God who wants us to return to Him. And whether you believe in that or not, I cannot speak for anyone except myself, but the happiest people I have ever known share faith in something greater beyond this life. (I follow Kirk Durston's blog and invite you to read his thoughts about this.)
I feel a strong sense of purpose and responsibility from the faith that I foster. "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required" (Luke 12:48). I have been given many advantages, talents, and gifts that I know I am expected to appreciate, cultivate, and bless others with as part of my divine mission while here on earth.
Being a disciple of Jesus Christ and a witness of God wherever I go and in whatever I do helps pick me back up. I have an eternal perspective and strive to be like my Savior, and that testimony drives me through my worst times. It motivates me to be a better wife, mother, daughter, teacher, and friend. It reminds me that my mom's suffering is not in vain and that we will one day reunite with all those who have already graduated from this life.
My testimony instills a sense of responsibility and purpose in me that is enhanced by the associations I have with fellow members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Gathering weekly (or more often!) with good people, no matter where you live in the world, who share the same convictions as you have, is empowering and sometimes life-saving.
I cannot imagine experiencing the struggles I've had in this life without the hundreds of faithful friends I've gotten to know. Such people become extensions of my family, many whose friendships I know will be lifelong wherever we end up in the world. And together, we all take comfort in knowing that "because of the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, physical death is only temporary," and all the other problems we have are a part of what will eventually refine and perfect us.
In the throes of my darkest and most depressing days, I take time to weep and feel everything I need to feel. I know that's normal and necessary. But when the sun starts sending rays through my dark little cloud, I know that I can look up and keep going.
The more grief I experience, the more I appreciate all that is good and glorious in this life. We are meant to find joy and happiness, even in this ominous place. And the more we can let our lights shine to help others traverse their trials, the more good we can find in our own grief.