Sometimes, it hits you when you’re driving. Sometimes, it hits you when you’re at work and you feel as if you’re spinning your wheels. Sometimes, it hits you when get up in the morning before your alarm clock buzzes.

What is it? It is the many faces of grief.

For the last few weeks, I’ve taken you on a journey about the loss of my grandfather.

Now comes the silence – the silence that comes after the funeral and after your family and friends go their separate ways, again.

If you’ve lost a loved one, you know this all too well. You’ve already used the three bereavement days your place of employment normally provides to you. And you find yourself grappling with trying to re-enter the daily grind that accompanies your normal routine.

Thousands of industry manuals and journal articles have attempted to put a timeframe around the grieving process. But, we all know that grief is a highly individualized process. How you move through the grieving process or how you express that grief depends on the nature of your relationship with that person, your personality, and cultural norms - to name a few.

Oftentimes, I worry that our “hurry up and get over it” culture does us more harm than good. Other cultures have sanctioned rituals that allow you to process the grief over a period of time.

In a society where self-help books preach the importance of getting things done, you can’t help but feel like a failure in a culture that thrives on productivity.

I had to give myself permission to grieve. I had to allow myself the time to grieve. I had to become comfortable with the fact that I couldn’t accomplish everything on my “to-do list” for today. I had to convince myself that it was okay to sleep-in on a Saturday morning and cry in bed.

At times, through my grief, I’ve surrounded myself with family. At other times, I’ve spent a Sunday afternoon, alone, in my apartment listening to music and leafing through my grandfather’s photo album.

Whatever I decided to do, I had to give up the notion that I was supposed to be doing something more productive at that moment. I still have my “to-do list,” but I focus on accomplishing three items versus 20. I am more realistic about my schedule and what should be receiving my attention at that particular moment. 

Allow yourself to be human. Allow yourself to acknowledge the deep and profound relationship you shared with that person and what that loss means to you. Get comfortable with saying no. The world won’t fall apart if you decide to delegate your volunteer duties to someone else or if you cancel this week’s “get-together” among friends.

Most importantly, create those rituals that will allow you to remember the person you loved and lost – whether it be through prayer, writing in a journal, listening to music, or lighting a candle.