Paula Becker - A Little Book of Self-Care for Those Who Grieve

A Little Book

of Self-Care

for Those

Who Grieve

Copyright 2021 by Paula Becker

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Girl Friday Books, Seattle

Produced by Girl Friday Productions

Design: Rachel Marek

Development & editorial: Sara Spees Addicott

Production editorial: Dave Valencia

Illustrations by Rebekah Nichols

Cover image, : Suto Norbert Zsolt/Shutterstock

ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-7363579-5-8

ISBN (e-book): 978-1-7363579-6-5

ISBN (audio): 978-1-954854-10-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021904040

First edition

Preface

On June 29, 2017, my twenty-five-year-old son, Hunter, was killed.

The shock of Hunters death instantly dead- ened me. I curled into the couch corner, moving lit- tle. When movement became inescapable, my body pressed thickly through what was now an unfamiliar landscape. I had no appetite but could not quench my thirst. I had, at first, little information. My thoughts skittered randomly, unable to form a pattern. Days and nights were marked by how many of them had passed since Hunters death.

Eventually, I blindly reached for books to help me understand how to navigate the grief engulfing me. I did find books, but they were too wordy for my shat- tered attention span. Too big to carry easily, to be a

Preface

vi

touchstone. I wanted a guide: short, prescriptive, real- istic. A book to help me help myself, to help me live within my new bereaved reality.

A Little Book of Self-Care for Those Who Grieve began as notes scratched out over many midnights, thoughts formed as I lay sleepless or in the aftermath of painful dreams. This book aims to be a hand to hold for oth- ers who are grieving. Reader, it is for your support. Use this book however you want to. Read it straight through, or read a page a day. Turn to it when you need to. I hope its words will lift and carry those who read them, as surely as the grieving reader carries the book.

A Little Book

of Self-Care

for Those

Who Grieve

Someone is gone,

and they will not come back.

Weep.

Scream.

Hate.

Disbelieve.

Go numb.

Breathe.

Rage.

Breathe.

Curse God (or gods).

Beg God (or gods).

Breathe.

Remember.

Feel it, what you feel.

Let it be.

Sit with it, because you have no choice.

Sit with it. Let it be.

This is the only work:

breathe.

Add lemon to your water.

Sip.

Eat something if you can.

A little is okay.

There is no right or wrong way to feel.

There is just how you feel.

Feel.

Breathe.

Be kind, now. Kind to you.

Grief hurts in every way. It hurts your body.

Sometimes sensation comforts when words cannot:

Water against skin as you stroke through.

The weighty quilt, more frayed than whole, your great-grandmother pieced decades ago.

Mug, hot from tea.

Bowl, warm from soup.

Comfort food is what someone else made that you can eat. Also, the echo of those dishes, which you may re-create: watermelon/feta/ mint salad, even out of season. Lentil soup. Baked rigatoni, tucked in the fridge, consumed by spoonful rather than bowlful.

Eating nothing else is fine. Eating these same meals for weeks, months, years is fine. Anything that warms or cools or comforts, any time, for any length of time, is fine. Maybe what matters isnt the specific food. Maybe its that receiving it makes us feel cherished.

Not everyone has been initiated into grief. Friends may not know what to say. Your grief may frighten them. This is okay. Their fear is not your work. Your work is you.

You are accident-prone. Be extra careful.

Whether you realize it or not, you are in shock.

If you can manage it, try not to drive. Grief wells and overflows in the cars safe space. Can someone drive you? Can you call for a ride? If you must drive, take a five-minute grief medi- tation before you start the car. Focus. Breathe, as best you can. Practice staying present behind the wheel.

If you panic (and you may), pull over. If images arise (they may), just breathe. Relax your muscles. Take time. (It will take time.) Breathe.

Preserve what energy you have. Delegate. Try to tell people what you need, specifically, if you know. If you dont know what you need, thats okay too. Do what you want to do, if anything. Hand other tasks away, if that feels right.