The Grieving House

While in high school a close friend’s dad passed away suddenly due to a heart attack. He was here one minute, the next minute he was just gone. I felt so helpless to her. What could I possible offer her? How could I support her? Shortly after that time, in a class we were told about the 5 Steps of Grieving.


1. Denial & Isolation

2. Anger

3. Bargaining

4. Depression

5. Acceptance

I was ecstatic to learn these. I figured that if I learned them, I could see what step she was in, and I would know what to expect, and then I would know when she was “through” her grieving. Oh to be 16 again and think the world was really black and white. Sigh.

It is no secret I have had loss in my life whether it was a death, a marriage, a job or even a friendship. The Steps of Grief apply to all of these losses. Recently someone going through a loss asked me, “How long will it take for me to get through this?” There is no answer. We all deal with loss in different ways. So cliché, right? Another sigh.

I like to think of the Stages of Grief as if it were a house. Each room is a step in the process. As we walk through various rooms in our house, every day, we also pass through the different stages of grief. Everyday can be different as far as what stage we are in. There isn’t a clear path of 1 through 5. Overtime, we change the cosmetic parts of our houses with paint, decorations and time we spend in the room. To me, the different stages also change over time as well. The deep depression I once felt after my mom passed away is very different than the “sad” days I may have now when I feel myself missing her more than usual.

There are times when I walk into a room and I don’t remember why I went there. Did I get there out of habit? What steered me there? Sometimes I think back to the time immediately following my mom’s death and I don’t remember how I got through some of those days. There is a memory lapse that makes me feel like it may never have happened in the first place.

I have lived in many homes since birth, at least 15. Even though I may not think of every house, at random moments something will trigger my memory of a house. In the same way, I will remember something about my mom that came out of nowhere. I can still remember the exact layout of a house when I was 3, just like I can still smell the coffee/Cert on my mother’s breath as I lay on her lap in an AA meeting.

By no means do I think the grieving process is a continuous cycle that you never get out of, like running on a hamster wheel. Grief will change, morph and age over time, just like a home.

If only the walls could talk.