On Making Room for Grief to Interrupt

On Sunday night I learned someone I know and love had died unexpectedly, tragically.

A handful of people I know and care about have died over the past few weeks(none from Covid), so it’s been a heavy month.

I’m not experiencing deep depression, but I’m in a season of deep grieving.

For me, the grief comes in waves.

It’s complex.

It can be confusing at times.

It can also be comfortable, which I never thought I’d be able to say.

Grief also interrupts.

I went to Church Street Coffee and Books yesterday to work on the book proposal for my next book, to do a bit of work, to plan more posts for Church Street’s Instagram account (which I’m having the most fun with, by the way), but I didn’t get as much work done as I planned. I didn’t even take my computer out of its case.

Instead, I grabbed a copy of Notes on Grief by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie from one of Church Street’s shelves. I ordered a small cup of brewed coffee with a lot of cream. Then I sat down and read about a stranger’s grief over her father’s death that holds many similarities to my grief over my father’s death.

The personal, the particular, can often be universal.

While I sat and read and sipped, tears pooled in my eyes but they didn’t slip until Chapter 17.

I have thoughts on why I could no longer control my tears at the Chapter 17 mark, but I’m saving those for my next book.

Much love to all who grieve the deaths of loved ones and to all who grieve other losses of all shapes and sizes.

May you find comfort in the words, art, and music from artists who have the courage to crack open their hearts and souls and show us what’s inside.

May we make space for grief to interrupt.

May we know we belong to each other in our grief, that our personal stories and experiences hold common threads and have power to help us know we aren’t alone while we remember and lament what we’ve lost.

*Originally published on Instagram.

Related:

I wrote about death and grief and how they intersect with loneliness and belonging in several chapters of The Great Belonging.

And I wrote this essay for The Christian Century after my dad died in 2020: “My dad died from COVID-19. My grief is a lonely one”

Charlotte Donlon helps readers and clients notice how they belong to themselves, others, God, and the world. Charlotte is a writer, a spiritual director for writers, and the founder and host of the Our Faith in Writing podcast and website. She’s also the host of the Hope for the Lonely and A Writer’s Diary podcasts. Her writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Curator, The Christian Century, Christianity Today, Catapult, The Millions, Mockingbird, and elsewhere. Her first book is The Great Belonging: How Loneliness Leads Us to Each Other. You can subscribe to her newsletter and connect with her onTwitter and Instagram.