Nobody can tell you what your experience with grief will be, except that it will be entirely your own.

Earlier today, I was engulfed with work then was relaxing and singing in my car on the way to a workout. It was only after I had dinner and sat down that my thoughts returned to my loss. It snuck up on me like a lion hiding from its prey- waiting until I was most relaxed to stike. In those moment I found myself wondering: What am I learning from this? What can I share to help others feel less alone? Grief is a universal experience, yet it remains a deeply solitary one.

After my Dad passed someone told me that grief comes in waves. Sometimes you will be fine; other days, it engulfs you. I find this to be profoundly true. It’s strange, how we learn to adapt after a loss but our souls still acknowledge the void. In a way, it makes me less afraid of death, knowing that some of those I’ve loved the most have faced it before me. While I still believe that it will be the scariest thing that I face in my life, I feel comfort in the thought that I will feel their presence when it is my time.

Both of my parents shared a “gut feeling” before they passed which has only strengthened my intuition. I’ve experienced too much to say that there aren’t some sort of soul ties in this world- though honestly, those ties make the grief harder. I often wonder if grief strikes worse when I feel like I want to talk to them or need them, or if it is striking harder because I feel their presence more.

I’m not sure that I will ever know the answer. Therapists are invaluable in helping you cope, but nobody; to my knowledge, has actually proven what causes these intense, ethereal surges in emotions. It would be a mercy to know for a fact that they are watching – standing among us, proud of our accomplishments and catching us when we fall.

Perhaps that’s the real root of our grief: not knowing. Not knowing where their energy, soul, spirit, or however you acknowledge, resides. Not knowing if you will ever speak or touch them again. A sting in not having the last time you heard their voice or felt their hug committed to memory because you were both unaware.

So what’s the point in sharing this? We never know when the “last time” will be, or what lies beyond. I think part of our grief is the weight of that uncertainty- and the wish that we could know for sure.