Grief Articles

To Get Somewhere You Have to Leave Nowhere Behind
By Rob Anderson, Sugar Grove, Illinois

When I first tried to ride my bicycle without training wheels and without my dad holding onto the seat, a mixture of excitement and fear pulsed through my body. I felt much more fear than excitement. I was afraid of falling down, breaking my leg or crashing into a tree and killing myself. “Somebody save me…please!”

We lived outside Toledo, Ohio, with a soaring cottonwood tree in our parkway. Unbeknownst to me, someone planted a magnet inside that tree so when I started pedaling my bike I was yanked into its trunk, and not in a nice way. OUCH! Challenging my fear was not something I wanted to do, but if I wanted to ride with my friends I had to conquer that fear. At the time, I didn’t understand the subtle things I was learning by pushing myself and expanding my comfort zone. I didn’t know my confidence would grow, propelling me to take risks in other areas later in my life. The lesson I learned was that to get somewhere I had to leave nowhere behind.

After my son died, I found myself living in nowhere and it was fine with me, just like it is for all newly bereaved parents. Our comfort zones have been destroyed, nothing will ever be like it was. Our past lives ended and this new unwanted journey propelled us into areas we knew nothing about. The pain was so intense, the suffering so great, we sometimes didn’t want to live another moment.

“Nowhere is just fine thank you.” And that’s where we stay for a long time. In the beginning that’s okay. It’s okay to feel anything we want to feel; to do anything we want that doesn’t harm us or others; to stumble and fall in our new crippled lives. Nowhere becomes very comfortable, somewhere is not a place we want to go.

It’s when nowhere does becomes comfortable, and we resist going somewhere, that we make the unconscious decision to either stay in nowhere or challenge ourselves—get back on our bikes, so to speak—and work at going somewhere, even though we don’t know where somewhere will take us. Getting back up, spinning the pedals in place, balancing our bike as we throw our leg over the bar again is a scary thing to do. But when we say, “Anywhere is better than nowhere,” that’s when our healing begins. And it must begin if we’re ever going to go somewhere with our lives. The unknown can be a frightening place because we’re walking blind. And yes, we may fall down again, but each time we get back up, we’re on our way to somewhere and we’re a little bit stronger, a little bit more healed.

Grief is scary stuff. The scariest stuff I’ve ever known. As a combat veteran, wounded in Viet Nam, the terror I felt in the jungle paled in comparison to the terror I felt when I learned of the death of my son. Grief pounded on me, pinned me down, and wouldn’t let me up for a long time. We all know that feeling and how terrifying grief can be. It’s the monster under the bed that’s now out from under the bed and holding us down, just about scaring us to death. Somehow we managed to breathe, somehow we managed to exist.

How do we start going somewhere and leave nowhere behind? We start by expressing our pain in positive ways. If we express it negatively through violence, abuse, excessive drinking or taking drugs, we will be stuck in nowhere until those destructive behaviors stop. Nowhere is not a good place to live. Trying to bury our pain only creates more pain; it will not go away or weaken if we run from it. It will chase us down, because our pain, our grief, is our lifetime companion. If we confront it and work at our healing, the pain will lessen, our lives will get better. But they will only get better if we want them to get better and we do our work. To get somewhere we have to leave nowhere behind. It’s not easy to start the healing. It’s hard to jump into the deep end of the pool of our grief and try to swim with all the burdens in our new lives dragging us down, but it can be done.

What are positive ways we can express our suffering? We’ve been bitten by the poisonous snake of death and we need to get that poison out. One of the best ways to bleed out the poison of our suffering is to talk about it, talk about all of it. It’s okay to be angry, guilty, resentful, feel sorry for ourselves and experience the myriad of other emotions that churn inside us. It’s okay to express them not only through talking, but also through crying, writing, yelling at the wall, screaming in the car, beating up a pillow, hugging a friend, exercising, painting, making a memory book and on and on. If you need to, let others know what you need, ask for help. It’s not a sign of weakness to say, “I don’t know what to do, help me.” That’s a sign of strength and your desire to go somewhere and leave nowhere behind. Early in our new lives it’s necessary to let ourselves feel and express all our emotions, even the scary ones. As we do our healing work, it’s important to understand that holding on to the ugly emotions will keep us at nowhere; keep us from going somewhere.

Forgiveness and letting go are positive ways to leave nowhere behind and move somewhere ahead. Letting go of our anger toward those who don’t “get it” is a good way to move somewhere. No one gets it like we do; don’t expect them to. Letting go of our expectations of others who we think should be supporting us better will help us heal. Forgiving those who hurt us, even though they thought they were trying to help is a positive way to heal. Letting go of blame, guilt, resentment and our child’s physical death are ways to propel us forward in our healing. Moving forward with our lives is always our goal. Even though we will stumble and fall many, many times (and that’s okay) it’s absolutely paramount to our healing that we get back up and move ahead, move somewhere further down the road on our journey. Forgiveness and letting go can be powerful healers.

Ask yourself, “What can I do to keep from staying in nowhere?” Even though the deaths of our children have absolutely crushed us, it is because of their lives that we must fight for our lives. What are the little things in your life that will take you down your path to somewhere; to a better, happier and more meaningful life? One way to move to somewhere is to reach out and help others. Helping others will help us heal. As we involve ourselves in the lives of others we can once again find meaning in our lives.

You will always have the love you have for your child. Since you can no longer give it directly to them, give it away to others, spread your love around. Volunteer at a hospital, your church or a school, mow a neighbor’s lawn, wash their windows, work for your community’s festival or go to a nursing home and talk with the elderly. Give a compliment, hold open a door, give someone a ride when they need it. There are lots of ways to get involved, lots of ways to go somewhere; ways to help yourself by helping others.

Even though we will forever grieve the deaths of our children, it doesn’t mean we need to lead a grief-stricken life. We must continuously fight nowhere by working at going somewhere. Somewhere is a place of hope, a place where our lives can have meaning again. As we fight for our somewhere, we fight for the return of our smiles and the return of the lives of our kids. The fight is worth it; life is worth it; we are worth it.

Return to Article Index