The 7 Languages of Sorrow

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The Seven Languages of Sorrow were given Life by Dr Stephen Garrett

The Seven Languages of Sorrow are our pathway through grief and grieving. Some people gravitate towards all of them, most pick one or two and anywhere in between. 
Knowing how we grieve, knowing things that can make the grief more malleable, or more powerful. To give meaning and purpose to our grief, but mostly just to have others witness the grief. It is very important to our brain that we be witnessed when we are going through something big, something substantial, something difficult or challenging. I often think of children on the playground when I think about this part of the human process. "Look at me, Mommy! Look what I can do?" Look at this, Daddy!! I did this at school today!" We want people to see our milestones, witness our growth. In the case of grief, I have found it isn't my growth I want witnessed, it is my dad. I want him to be remembered! I want his life to be acknowledged. I want the world to know he was here, he was loved, he was worthy of love, and he was my dad.
The hardest day for me, was the day after my dad died. No one else noticed. The world didn't stop turning. The traffic still went by. People were still functioning... when I couldn't. I finished writing my first poem about my grief that day.

How do you grieve?

How do you grieve someone still living?
Gently.
How do you mourn small losses?
With kind reflection.
How do you protect someone’s dignity?
Remembering who they are, remembering who they were, remembering who they used to be.
How do the stars still shine?
How does the world still turn?
How do you slow down time?
How do you grieve a life well led, while someone is losing their mind, their hope, their strength?
You remind them.
You remind them.
You remind them.
How do you get through this?
You remind yourself.
They are still here. They are still them. They are still loved!
How do you go on living when they're gone?
You breathe and Remember...
They're still with you
Energy doesn't leave, it just changes form.

Gwynn Hughes

I realized when I finished this poem that it wasn't about just his death, it wasn't even about my grief, it was mostly about the anticipatory grief, the pre grief, the noticings that he was slowing down. The knowing he was getting closer with each day. Energy doesn't leave, it just changes form. My father's energy was in me, was with me. I carry him with me every day. These are all things that have helped me walk with grief. You do not move through it, you walk with it. Grief is just the mirror reflection of the love you have for someone. People say "I loved them." But it's not past tense. It's current, because grief is love, there is just nowhere for the love to go, there is no place for that love to land any more.


What Becomes of the Wreckage

When the love you have for someone runs so deep
When the memories you carry become too heavy
When the sorrow of their loss completely decimates your soul
What becomes of the wreckage?
Am I still here?
Am I still whole?
Do I even exist in a world without you in it?

Gwynn Hughes

Making friends with Grief

I am making friends with my grief, which is honestly about time!! I have been walking with Grief for a very long time and I haven't even looked at her before. She is so beautiful! She looks old, but wise, sad, but confident. She knows this walk, she knows this path. It may be the first time in my life that I have even recognized that I am on her path, I certainly did not recognize her for who she is. It's beautiful, painful, and so very sad. I am doing my best to keep up with her, but she knows the way and I get lost easily in memories and experiences. She is patient and kind and never rushes me. Like a parent with a child who cannot seem to keep up. She is letting me play and experience, and feel. She encourages me to feel. I don't always like that. It's so deep and it hurts so much! But she waits until my thinking brain catches up with my emotional brain. She waits until my curiosity peaks again and I run to catch up. She will walk with me forever now. She is my friend.

Gwynn Hughes

​The Cold Sheets

Thank God for the cold of the sheets.
They remind me of you.
How quickly the warmth faded from your skin, how I longed for your touch even then, at first.
I wanted your smile again, your loving embrace, the twinkle in your eye!! 
To say it happened suddenly would be a lie, and yet it doesn't feel like one.
I saw the signs, I even commented on them.
But I was in denial. 
You told me you would live for a long, long time, but a long, long time is not forever... I wanted forever!!
I long for forever!! 
How lovely it was to be loved by you, for only a lifetime.
Just not my lifetime!
How young you were when I met you! 
How handsome you were.
And how much you loved me.
It was breathtaking!

Gwynn Hughes

The dream

I dreamt of my dad last night.
It was beautiful!
I dreamt of his smile.
He had such a great smile!
And then the pain came.
The gut punch pain, 
The chest pain,
The headache, the jaw ache, The can't breathe, 
And the tears...
The most productive, most beautiful, heart wrenching, guttural cry! 
A cry they heard on the moon, on every star.
A cry that shattered the universe.
I thought you would hear it!
I'm surprised the earth didn't shake.
I'm surprised I'm still here.
Without you.

Gwynn Hughes

So, the 7 Languages of Sorrow, obviously include poetry. The language of poetry is actually mentioned in 2 of the Languages of grief. The Sensitive: They like to play music or sing, they use creative expression by using their voice, their ears and music to express their grief out. I am not only called to write poetry, but I love to read my poems out loud to people that want that. I find reading my own words helps me tremendously, to get the grief out. The Writer is another language. This one also mentions poetry, but it is less performative and quiet. The Writer also may journal or write a letter to someone, maybe a BLOG, or write more Social Media posts. So I am definitely drawn more to the written word and performing to express my grief out. 
There is also The Talker, they like counselling, talk therapy, walk and talk sessions in nature, community and support groups. The Mover expresses their grief through movement, doing, dancing, exercise, hiking, breathwork, yoga. The Seeker seeks out meaning in the death, through ritual, prayer, ceremony and meditation. The Artist expresses their grief through painting, drawing, sculpting, baking, weaving, knitting or carving. They have a tangible need to express their grief through touch. Last but not least is The Filer. They express their grief slowly, mindfully. They work on one thing at a time, they keep things simple and organised until they feel ready to explore other languages, to see which feels best for them. They are more introverted, cautious.

So, now you know how I'm moving through my grief and the grieving process. How are you doing with your grief?

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