March 28, 2008

grief envy

C.S. Lewis once said, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear" (A Grief Observed).

No one ever told me that grief felt so like envy.

I find myself envious of so much. I am even envious of the grief of others. I look at other people who have suddenly lost loved ones and I wish to be in their shoes. Of course, when I talk with them they wish to be in mine. 

I despise my situation because I had to watch cancer slowly take life away from my parents. It was a slow agonizing process to watch my parents grow weaker and weaker. I just wish they maintained their health and died suddenly without having to watch them suffer. However, others who have suddenly lost loved ones expressed envy of my experience because I was able to say goodbye to my parents and be with them as they suffered and died.

My grief envy has a history. At this point, nearly half of my life has been spent with a sick parent. My dad was diagnosed with cancer when I was 15 years old. I was unaware of my envy at the time, but I was envious of others whose family still had their health. My life became defined in many ways by my dad's sickness. I could not talk with many people without them asking how he was doing. They should've asked and I appreciated them asking. Nonetheless, I wanted a life without that concern constantly following me around. I wanted a life without the constant anticipation of my dad growing weaker and weaker. I was there with my dad when his body began to fail him. I was glad to be with him. It was a "holy" experience being with him as he entered his eternal rest. However, it was also a "horrible" experience at the same time as I finally watched the life God gave him come to an end on this earth.

My grief envy did not have a moment to subside because in less than two months my mom found herself in an even weaker state than my dad (upon diagnosis) as cancer quickly began to take her life away. I had to watch the same process happen all over again only in a different person, my other parent. The rightful concern of others surrounded me and I wanted a life without it. My grief envy steeped even lower. I was envious now of those who still had one healthy parent. I went through the very same holy and horrible experience with my mom as her body began to fail her.

Now, my grief envy enters a phase where I am envious of those who can watch their parents enjoy their grandchildren.

All of my grief envy has roots. The reality is that nearly half of my life I have felt too weak, too vulnerable, and too exposed as a result of the sickness and death of my parents. I want a life full of strength and health. Yet, this does not seem to be part of my story. Weakness and vulnerability will constantly follow me for the rest of my days as a result of the sickness and death of my parents. 

Thankfully, the grace of God follows fast after weakness and vulnerability and turns my grief envy in this life into hope for the life to come.


3 comments:

Unknown said...

Hi guys,
Thank you for being real and honest David. So true. Without the hope of the gospel, we might as well eat, drink and be merry...May Jesus and His resurrection anchor you as you continue to process. I heard you were taking an exam. How did it go? Mia, how are you doing? What's Jonah doing now? The SF CG continues to think of you and am excited you're doing Caleb and Jordan's wedding!

Anonymous said...

David, your blogs open my eyes. Thank you for sharing your heart with us all. You are right, all of us have grief envy that stems from the different paths our lives have taken. It hurts to miss our loved ones, whatever the cause of death. How thankful and blessed I am to know that we have God carrying us thru the days of grief and beyond. Sometimes I think that true grief should be for those that do not know God and have relationship with him. Hang in there David.
Love, Ray and Cathy Henry (Waterworth)

Michael and Mandy said...

David,
That is beautiful. If feels weird to call something so painful beautiful, but that is what comes to my mind...and I guess that is the paradox of the Gospel. Thank you for taking the time to type that out.
Mandy McBride