It is 2am and my 18 year old son has just come in, and from my bedroom I can hear the tears. I know that grief has just hit him and he is missing his dad, his best friend, his champion, his rock, his dude!
This is a profound loss for all of us and for him, my empath, my deep thinker and talker… this is a time for so many questions. His greatest question being… how do I keep this from breaking me?
In this conversation, I am both learning and practicing things that I can share with you.
1. Be unafraid to talk about death. For us, this was unexpected and we’ve had some hard talks, but the honesty of the feelings associated has brought some relief in just the fact that he CAN talk about it with me in any form of expression. And yes, that is sometimes choice curse words. (Why not, he most likely learned them from his dad or me).
2. Listen, listen, listen without offering an explanation. We are natural fixers when it comes to conflict. The fear of hearing scary things like wanting to give up, or being angry at God, or whatever strikes terror in your heart makes us quick to jump in with platitudes and solutions. Let honest expression of thoughts and feelings happen without the fix or hold on to silence and the power it brings in just resting there until words are ready to flow again.
3. Release each other from the stereotypes of grieving. A man cries and grieves. Being strong is not mandatory and is subject to interpretation. The pain can be paralyzing and it is okay to be paralyzed by it. Moving on is not measured in hours and days, it is selective. Depression is real and not a sign of weakness. All of this is healing and a peeling away of the rules and standards of stereotypes and culture. Be brave enough to break culture here.
Talking about the grief we feel and its real effects on us often present so much conflict for us that we don’t do it or listen for it. This is the toughest assignment of my life, helping my sons enter into and go through this process, and experiencing it once again for myself in as real a way as possible. I am committed to holding the energy of learning and letting go, alongside of giving in and going with the flow of grief as it comes.
Death too can teach us even more about engaging in conflict if we let it
This blog is dedicated to the loving memory of Warren J. Price, a most beautiful soul, husband, friend and world-class father whose fried chicken was the stuff of legends!
To help during this tragic time, we have set up a GoFundMe – you can Click Here to read more.
So much to learn here. Thank you for sharing your heart at such a difficult time. Praying for you and the family, my friend!
Thank you my friend for your sincere love and loving words. It has taken me this long to finally put words together to say thank you.
It breaks my heart reading this and to just think about what you and your children are going through. Tears well up in my eyes when I remember the times that we all shared together. Oh yes that fried chicken was the bomb! So, just like I have the good memories and impressions, I know that you and your children are blessed to have had such a strong husband, father, role model, good man, a sure nuff King, etc. It’s so hard to let go, but you have so much to hold on to. So Queen I say to you. Be there for your sons and allow yourself to grieve. Warren taught them how to be strong men….they are going to be alright. Warren’s love for you and the family will help guide you during these tough times. Allow it. My prayers are with you and the family. I love you all ❤️
We have such great memories together with warren. He was in it for the long haul. Black School was the bomb!!!! Love you and thank you for your loving words. So much love and memories shared.
Grief is the last act of love we can give to those we’ve lost..The most painful kind of love is grief. Where there is deep grief, there was great love..Grief has no expiration date…No matter how long it’s been some days it still hard to breathe. My prayers are with you in grief
Thank you. It has taken me this long to be in a place of being able to reply. Those words about grief comfort me. Thank you roomie.