I was telling my best friend something about my dad the other day and I started crying. Again. She has seen me cry a lot in the last year. It has been over 14 months since my dad died and even though I am no longer completely bereft, the underlying grief is always there. Not once has my friend rolled her eyes or said anything that wasn't supportive. She hasn't told me to cheer up or asked why am I STILL crying. But I find her patience and willingness to let me grieve unusual.
Because the truth is that most people are uncomfortable with prolonged sadness or grief or illness or anything else negative. People want to hear how you overcame, how you healed, how you feel better now. Your grief, sadness, mourning, illness make them feel uncomfortable. At my father's memorial service, someone actually told my mom to cheer up and not cry. I want to think that the person was trying to be helpful, but she sure wasn't. Now that it's been over a year, people just assume my mom is over it. I mean, it must be easier, right? All the milestones have passed: first birthday, first Christmas, first Valentine's etc without my dad. And yes, in some ways it is easier. But in some ways it isn't and people do not want to hear that. They want to be assured that things get better, that time heals all wounds, that grieving is tidy and follows a one year schedule... blah blah blah. People are uncomfortable with lingering sadness that outlasts whatever time they deem appropriate.
People are also uncomfortable with prolonged (especially unexplained) illness. Pentti has been unwell for about 18 months. I blogged previously that he had cancer and I am so grateful that the cancer is gone. But, he has other issues related to his surgery and other health challenges. He had some tests done and they were inconclusive. So, he has to wait and have more tests. So when people ask me how he is, I don't know what to answer. Again, they want to hear that he's better and everything is great. But the truth is more complicated than that.
And that's where lament comes in. Lament allows for mourning what is, when we wish things were different. We don't always have to get over things. Life's troubles don't always have clear start and end dates. Things are messy and unclear and take longer than expected. We can get through things with prayer and lament, but we don't always get over them. Sometimes a time of prolonged sadness is exactly what we need. I think there is something profoundly beautiful in lamenting that we are frail and limited and broken. And it is from that place that we turn to God, to the resurrection of Easter, to the eternal hope of all things one day being made right.
