Grief and That First Year of Loss

The first year after a loss is deserving of its own category and explanation because it is something that is wildly misunderstood.  It is often not recognized that one can become attached to more than just the loss of the loved one, but also to their absence.  In the many snippets where normalcy and routine are now replaced with emptiness and silences, eventually the organization of the emotional lives will revolve around what is no longer there.  It is sometimes referred to as the attachment to absence.

As humans, we are innately wired for attachment.  From the period of infancy up through adulthood, the brain develops emotional connections that assist us in experiencing belonging, security, predictability and love.  And when someone becomes a central part of our lives, our brains incorporate that loved one into our expectations of everyday living.

We anticipate their unique voice and recognize their footsteps.  We expect their reactions and instinctively think of telling them of our various life moments.  The inner expectation is to tell them when something wonderful occurs, or frustrating or humorous moments as well.  Then, when this loved one is gone, the brain cannot immediately erase all those expectations that have built over the years of the attachment.  Further, the brain may continue anticipating their presence even after the conscious realization of their death.  This can explain the impulse reaction to reach towards the phone to call that loved one, or envision them entering a familiar room or even forget (for just a moment) that they are no longer there.  The mind grasps the loss before the emotional attachment system fully adjusts to the loss.

The first year is that pivotal time period of discovering what is missing.  Its significance is particularly hitting because it forces the encounter with the reality of loss in new ways simply because the first year is filled with experiences.  To name a few, there is the first birthday without them, the first holiday, anniversary, wonderful or challenging moment without their presence to share it, the first family gathering with their seat empty.  While these hit emotionally, they are the ordinary moments.

There are also those moments that are uniquely painful because they disrupt our attempts at the establishment of a new sense of normalcy.  It can be as ordinary as walking into the supermarket and reaching for their favorite food, or seeing someone from behind that resembles them, or even hearing a song that takes you back in time.  That initial year is not just about surviving those first 365 days, but it is about discovering, on repeat, the multiple places where someone once existed in life.  And each discovery can bring a new pang of grief.

There is an important distinction between the memories of someone and the emotional anchor to their absence.  In remembering them, it allows us to maintain a wonderful connection to their life, love, memories and influence.  On the other hand, anchoring to their absence can occur when the pain of missing them begins to feel like the primary remaining connection to them.  

Consider this example: If I cease to feel the pain so much, does this mean that I am beginning to erase their memory and forget them?  This can create an emotional conflict of wanting the relief from the pain, yet that same relief can feel strangely threatening.  This is because that pain has become intertwined with love.

The grief itself may start to feel like the only evidence that the relationship actually mattered.  Sometimes a day in the life of someone trying to heal where they feel moments of enjoyment, laughter or a day without the doom of overwhelming sadness, makes them feel guilty.  It would not be far- fetched for them to return to the painful reminders because those reminders serve a purpose of temporary closeness.  It does not mean they consciously desire suffering.  Instead, it means their emotional system is working diligently to preserve a connection that has been profoundly disrupted.  It can be summarized as learning that love does not require continuous suffering in order to remain meaningful.

Grief is not only an emotional experience.  It also involves the brain's systems for memory, attachment, attention and emotional regulation.  Starting with the hippocampus, its job is to organize memories and contextual information like background, circumstances or environment surrounding an event, situation or even written text.  The amygdala is a part of this because of threat detection and the prefrontal cortex rounds it out with reflection, decision-making and emotional regulation.

After the death of a loved one, the brain recalls the individual as someone that belongs in our world, yet the new experiences repeatedly demonstrates that they are physically absent.  This mismatch battle can contribute to emotional distress, yearning and the persistent expectation of a reunion.

Neuroplasticity allows the brain to gradually develop new patterns of expectation, behavior and response, emotionally.  Yet, this is not akin to the erasing of that loved one.  Healing does not require the brain to forget.  Instead, it is about learning to carry the relationship in a new way.  Everyone's time table for this adjustment is unique to them.

The navigation of that first year can be done through the recognition that there is a difference between love and pain.  Thus, when that sadness arrives, it must be acknowledged, but without the attached assumption that its intensity is a measure of the depth of love.  The relationship between you and the loved one was meaningful prior to the loss, and it remains meaningful in all moments, including those moments when you are not grieving.

Honor the person and yourself by giving yourself permission to experience those firsts.  While those first holidays, birthdays or anniversaries can be challenging, it is not your job to recreate every tradition, and you also do not have to avoid every reminder.  Thoughtfully consider with traditions that you want to preserve, those you may want to change and the others you just do not have the emotional capacity to participate in this year.  Avoid giving it a permanent stamp.  This is where you are in this slice of life, and it can reshape and change in due time.

Create a connection with that loved one that is not dependent upon suffering.  Take your memories and journal them, prepare a meal that was loved, start a meaningful tradition, support a cause that was important to your loved one, plant a tree that can be a reminder, etc.  The variety of experiences can allow the relationship to remain part of your life, minus the requirement of pain to be the sole expression of that connection.

Your identity needs a chance to expand.  Because loss changes us, you may never return to the replica of the person you were prior to the loss of a loved one.  That does not mean your life has halted in its development.  Investigate within yourself what parts of you still needs attention, discovery, growth and care.  You need to give yourself permission to become someone new while continuing to cherish the person you were before the loss of this loved one.

Finally, absorb and recognize that there is no healing deadline.  The first anniversary of the death, and the year within that marker, does not mark grief's completion.  For some, it is the second year that can be more challenging as that initial support has lessened and the permanence of that loss becomes more apparent.  The story for others is that the first year can bring relief gradually.  Whatever one you find is true of you, this is not a comparison, and your timeline does not represent a failure.  Grief is not linear, and its progression is up to the individual.

The goal surrounding grief is to reach a day when their absence is viewed in a healthy way.  In discovering that their presence in your life can continue to mean something, allow suffering that once meant the proof of their meaningfulness, to eventually lessen.  While that first year may indicate how deeply that loved one is missed, those years that follow can show us just how deeply someone can still be loved.  Reaching that point can become one of grief's most beautiful transformations.

The slow shift is learning to move from an attachment to the pain of their absence, to the longstanding value of their presence in your life.  Finding that place is a prominent area to focus your heart.  Once this is reached, the healing and loving emotional embrace to their special place in your life, and the healed joy of your heart, moves toward the appreciation that their life was placed alongside yours for that precious time.