When someone loses a spouse, there’s a black curtain of sorts that we walk into. We aren’t walking through it as many outsiders imagine. No – rather, we walk into it and are enveloped in darkness/emptiness. I don’t have adequate words to explain it, but it truly does exist.
Even while surrounded by the black curtain, we function. We greet people at the visitation/wake and funeral/memorial. Actually, we often end up comforting those who are there for us. That’s OK. It gives us something to do and we are enormously touched by the influence of our loved one’s life on so many. But the fact still remains that we are in the black curtain.
It’s not necessarily depression. It is completely possible to be immersed in the black curtain and not be depressed. That was my experience. But others experience depression or the beginning of depression. It is NEVER wrong to seek help and medication to cope through it all. What person, when struggling in the water, would refuse a life preserver? So some will need this. It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength to recognize the need and get help. Smart – very smart.
How long are we in the black curtain? It’s different for each person. An important truth that others need to understand is that there’s no timeline on grief. It lasts as long as it lasts.
As we move forward and the days become months, and then years, the black curtain turns us loose. It unfolds section by section. There’s no magic event that removes it. We walk around in our everyday, ordinary, back to some sort of normal lives and bring the black curtain with us. The unfolding comes as bits of light pierce through. Sometimes we take a step, make a new choice, decide to do something different or embrace enlightenment through a writing or a person. The black curtain peels back. We can breathe a little easier and our heart doesn’t feel so heavy.
I’m only 3+ years into this grief journey. My black curtain is still with me partially. Much of it has unfolded and fallen away. I have talked with many widows and widowers who lost their spouses many years ago. Most of their black curtain is gone, but a small piece remains.
I believe that the small piece of the black curtain may stay with each of us. It doesn’t define us, but it is part of who we are.
I’m no expert, but I think that having that small piece of the black curtain helps us relate to, be empathetic with, and be tenderhearted toward, those who have experienced loss. Our hearts bleed with their crushed heart. We connect because we recognize the black curtain in each of us. I believe God intentionally arranged for this to happen. In God’s Word to us, the Bible, it says in 2 Corinthians 1:4 – “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”
On my grief journey, I’ve learned that God doesn’t waste anything. My tragedy wasn’t for nothing. I can see other’s black curtain. It allows me to practice the ministry of presence. The small piece of my black curtain connects with their black curtain. It may be at that moment that a tiny glimmer of light pierces through. Hope – just a microscopic flicker of hope. It’s a beginning. The black curtain begins to unfurl and fall away.