Intellectual Grieving

There are a lot of major problems in the world right now, with violence in Lebanon, Beirut, and, of course, France.  I've been distracted, however, with some sudden illness in my family.  

If anyone tells you that an AC outlet is a useless accessory, they clearly have not thought about driving with a crock-pot.  

We brought food to my aunt and cousins in the hospital, cooking on the way up.  We were hearing only snatches and scattered updates the day before with enough information to be concerned, but certainly not to understand what was actually happening with my uncle.  So I turned my mind instead to logistics.  Andy and I decided quickly that it wasn't a question of "if" we were going to visit my family but "when," and I did not want to come up empty-handed.  I know that it's easy for family members and friends to forget to eat when you're worried about someone you love, so I had a ready distraction for the day, thinking through the logistics of setting up soup for the back of the car.  We had it in a box with a towel on top all belted down, a layer of foil underneath the lid, all in all managing to not spill the whole, full batch in our backseat.  Next time though, we would definitely leave it on Low instead of Warm.  

Thinking of something else can help me get through some of the initial reactions to a traumatic event, but I was reminded that there is certainly a point where we should re-engage the mind again.  One of the hardest parts for my family right now is trying to piece together what actually happened.  In the worst game of telephone ever, where originally we were told car accident, and then other theories have been working through as everyone, and especially my uncle, is trying to piece together something that we'll never have the full truth of (unless someone wants to confess to video cameras in my aunt and uncle's house).  

But until we can piece together at least some working theories, the emotional coping is a little stuck.  I hadn't realized that other people have to walk through cognitive understanding  as part of the coping process.  As part of my coping with illness and life, I specifically have had to dive in to some biological understanding of what my body is doing and the pharmacology to help find that grounding.  However, I thought perhaps I was a special little snowflake because I've run across so many people that can't explain their condition to me or certainly cannot tell me why they take a specific medication, that, of course, assuming that they can pronounce or even list what their medications are.  

I tend to wrap my intellectual understanding on "how?" but there are many people that prefer to put their attention more on "why?"  The question of "how?" is on the science spectrum; the question of "why?" leans more toward theology or otherwise looking at your predicament in the larger spectrum.  When trying to rationalize a situation, it can take the same kind of energy.  Some people need to do both, some people might not want to do either, but some kind of understanding seems necessary in the grieving process--we cannot treat real acceptance like the iTunes user agreement.  

Everyone grieves differently, and all too often the pressure seems to be to simply ignore grief instead of work through it.  There are different components of that process, all of which vary in importance by the situation and by the day.  It's easy to get caught in a trap, too, where someone helping you through a situation (or yourself) can focus on only one component of the healing, whether it's emotional (including relationships), spiritual, intellectual, or physical.  However, if you've recovered in one or some of these areas but not all, the process is not complete or as complete as it's going to be for now.  

The hardest part is figuring out which you need and when you need it.  That takes time and self-awareness.  But it is a necessary thing.  Take the time and energy to grieve how and in all the ways that you need to, as healthfully as possible.  

And have some comfort food in the meanwhile.