Grief is like a rock

Hi, I'm Melissa Griffey, manager of bereavement services with St. Croix Hospice. I have been leading this support group that we call Hope and healing, and it's an eight week series that we like to offer. One thing that I have started to implement when I do this support group is we do a therapeutic activity. At the beginning of the eight week series, we all join together and we come up with this little story that we have that was written by Jessica Watson called Grief is like a rock. We then collect these rocks and you get to write your name on the rock and carry it with you throughout the eight week series.

For example, I have this rock here that says love on it. The word love is chosen just because it resembles how we can come together through our grief journey and know that we've carried that love for a loved one who we have lost. So I'm going to read with you a little story that goes along with this. The story is grief is like a rock. It's a story from four an angel by Jessica Watson. Grief is like carrying a rock in your pocket. At first, you notice how heavy it is all the time, and the weight is a constant burden.

But after time, while you still feel the rock is there, it stops feeling so heavy. When you walk, that stone brushes against your skin. You feel it. You always feel it. But depending on the way that you stand or the way that your body moves, the smooth edges might barely graze your body. Sometimes you'll lean the wrong way, or you turn too quickly and a sharp edge pokes you. Your eyes water and you rub your wound. But you have to keep going, because not everyone knows about your stone. Or if they do, they don't realize it can still bring this much pain to you.

There are days you are simply happy. Now. Smiling comes easy, and you laugh without thinking. You slap your leg during that laughter, and you feel your stone and aren't sure whether you should be laughing. Still, this stone still hurts. Once in a while. You can't take your hand off of that stone. You run it over your fingers. You roll it in your palm and are so preoccupied by its weight that you forget things like your car keys and even your home address. You try to leave it alone, but you just can't.

You want to take a nap, but it's been so many years since you've called in sad. You're not sure anyone would understand anymore, or if they ever did. But most days you can take your hand in and out of your pocket, feel your stone, and even smile at its unwavering presence. You've accepted this stone as your own, crossing your hands over it, saying mine as a child would do you rest more peacefully than you once did. You've learned to move forward the best that you can. Some days you want to show the world what a beautiful memory you're holding, but most days you twirl it through your fingers, smile and look to the sky.

You squeeze your hands together and hope you are living in a way that honors the missing peace you carry until your arms are full again. This is a wonderful story that you can continue to follow along with. Pick out a rock. If you're outside, you see a rock that points in your direction, pick it up and carry it along with your grief journey. And it's okay to kind of continue to see how it impacts you as you're going through that journey and share that story with others who may be going through the same thing.