“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.
At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”
– C.S. Lewis
Grief is the emotional reaction to multiple fears becoming a reality in one moment; it is fear embodied. Those who fear the most grieve the hardest when it comes to pass. They only recover when they realise that those things they feared didn’t kill them, that they can carry on after the loss.
However, some will never recover, because sometimes those fears do kill people, just not on the outside. Many people carry grief like a tombstone on the heart and live like they are condemned, even after struggling for so long.
That is when people can’t move on, can’t heal, can’t brush it off. They need to be resuscitated, resurrected, reborn. They have to relearn, with childlike faith, how to be human and what it all means; how to see that their destiny is “suffering tainted with malevolence” (Jordan Peterson), but that it can be defied with love.
If we are faithful, then we are resurrected many times before our bodies give way, and even when they do, our actions live on. At least in that, death has no hold over the believer.