Imagine Grief is a Necklace

I read an analogy for grief the other day, and I thought I would share it here, as well as add my own personal spin to it.

Here is the image: The death of your loved one is a ball in a box. One one side of the box there is a pain button. Every time the ball hits the button, you feel a jolt of grief. At first, the ball is huge, and hits the button every time you move, every day. But over time the grief ball shrinks, and the button isn't hit as often. It's still there, it still happens, the button still gives you a jolt, it's just not as pervasive in your life.

I imagine every time someone dies in your life a new ball goes into the box.  When there is another death, that button gets pressed more often again, but with all the balls crowded in there together, so one death can trigger emotions from a previous experience of grief, and as our lives progress and we lose more people, we feel jolts more often. There is a compounding effect.

Additionally, I think this box hangs around your neck on a chain. It is a necklace. It goes with you everywhere you go, to parties, funerals, on vacation. You can hide it from others under your clothes, or you can have it out on display for everyone to see and comment on. On special occasions, it is more often visible and present. Maybe you show it off, talk about it a lot, or maybe no one but you knows it's there. You feel the weight of it all the time, regardless.

And finally, imagine that as you travel in the world, you look around and see that other people wear a necklace like yours. You are not alone. We all carry a box with grief. In fact the ones who don’t have one are the odd people out.

Just perhaps, there is comfort in that thought.