Inner Space: Notes on Death + Grief
With a list of resources (podcasts, books, films, etc.)
It’s been exactly a year to the day since I lost my beloved Tilly. I really can’t believe it. It feels like just yesterday she was curled up next to my legs at the end of the bed. Losing her was one of the most devastating experiences of my life even though on a logical level I knew the day would eventually come. She was my best friend, my constant companion. Almost 15 years of every-single-day kind of love and friendship. The depth of sadness and grief I experienced when she passed felt like an abyss. The first days, weeks and months, I felt so raw, so vulnerable. I didn’t know who I was without Tilly. She was my home, my safe space, my unwavering love. The week she got sick, I started really preparing for the end. I did my best to remain hopeful and I made the best decisions I could to try to help her pull through, but I also knew she was almost 15 and that it might just be her time. After she passed, I stayed in my apartment for days and days. Eventually when I finally ventured out, it was hard to be in the world. I felt like I was carrying around this heavy, ticking bomb that might explode at any moment. I still cry about her often, and I think about her every day. She remains deep in my heart space and a source of joy whenever I think of her cute little Tilly isms. The long and painful process of grieving allowed me to move through the intense, crushing feelings of sadness into a place of deep love and remembrance for my girl.
Grief feels so vast. It’s almost impossible to comprehend. I kept wanting to wrap my arms or my head or literally anything around it, but I couldn’t find its beginning or end. Grief rattles your sense of belonging. It makes you question who you are in your own life and in the world at large. It feels uniquely lonely. Uniquely heavy. Because it’s ours alone to carry. We can understand the grief of another, but the experience itself is completely individual. It’s dark and muddy and disorienting. It pierces you completely unexpectedly, walking down the street in the middle of the afternoon.
Living with grief is the ultimate example of our capacity to hold both sadness and joy. I am continually amazed and in awe of our ability to move through life holding so much. The grief of loss is one of the hardest human experiences we endure, but it’s also one that binds us and one that we must be willing to accept over and over again as the price of deep connection and love. Nothing prepares you for the pain of loss. It’s truly excruciating, but the depth of our grief is only a reflection of the depth of our love for our lost loved one.
