The Crown

Like many others, I’ve been binging on the Queen’s Gambit (it’s amazing) and the newest season of The Crown recently. 

And because of The Crown, I’ve of course become mildly obsessed with all things Royal. So of course when I came across this OpEd this morning, I immediately clicked through to read it. After reading it, I was gobsmacked at the vulnerability and humanity. The Duchess’s raw honesty is resounding and sheds a light on the many griefs being experienced this year, along with a monumental personal one. 

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/25/opinion/meghan-markle-miscarriage.html

The article also brings up something that resonates deeply for me- a question we ask so frequently, but rarely really desire the truest and most authentic response, especially in our video conference-packed days: How are you? 

Grief challenge- ask the question (of anyone- we’re all grieving these days!), and genuinely be open to an authentic response. 

Grace & authenticity

I was just attending a brilliant virtual session about Active Allyship at the Association of Fundraising Professional's #NOTCongress and I am struck by how much work needs to happen, continue, and start (speaking for me, personally). 

And I am also struck by the similarities in that journey and the linked terminology in the work to grief allyship. 

There is work to be done, and it is up to us (those sitting in privilege) to do it. 

Onward with grace and authenticity... 

REPOST: love language/grief language

Have you ever heard the statement "xyz is my love language"? (if not - check this out: https://www.5lovelanguages.com)

Spoiler - the authors describe the five languages as:

• words of affirmation,
• quality time,
• receiving gifts,
• acts of service,
• physical touch.

I think there is something to be said for these, and how they may relate to how we grieve, and how we expect others to grieve.

I was raised in a "quality time" household while I would bet money that if my husband would indicate his upbringing as having demonstrated a "receiving gifts" love language. Not to say this is how we show up now, but certainly these different styles come up in the course of our relationship (the Christmas tree is obscene thanks to his gift purchases, and our family outings to apple picking, pumpkin patch, etc are solely driven by yours truly).

So this said, think about how we prefer to give and receive love, and the obstacles that may present when faced with grief. If someone close to my husband dies, I may be inclined to try to spend time with him, seeking to connect and support through physically being somewhere with him. If someone close to me dies, he may be driven to purchase a random item for me as a supportive gesture. 

But in either case, it isn't likely to land as expected because that is not what the other will require in that moment. This could be a source of secondary grief (not sure what I mean by this? See the post on the Speaking Grief documentary and find a way to watch the film!) as neither of us will feel heard.

Another example:
My husband jokes that he is anti-grief. What he means by this is that while his mom grieves by knowing dates, years, celebrating death anniversaries (of almost all her extended family - really her memory and/or data tracking is sensational!), if it wasn't for a social media 'memory' popping up, he admits that he wouldn't recall the date that his dad died. Thus, he really doesn't understand the way his mom grieves, why those dates are of importance, and this leads to mutual frustration and likely sadness...
In short, I think they are speaking different grief languages.


Thoughts?

Alex Trebek, RBG, Sean Connery, Chadwick Boseman, Kobe Bryant

Question: Who are some of the impactful public figures who have died in 2020? 

Six years ago I wrote a piece for Gift Planning in Canada, a monthly newsletter for professional fundraisers who focus on legacies. That article was precipitated by the death of Robin Williams, another public figure who made a deep impact on society through his work. When Robin's death was announced, people felt it. His work meant something to people, and the grief was palpable. 

Similarly, I vividly recall the death of Kurt Cobain, from my high school days. and the impact that had on some of my peers. 

In the 2014 article, I explored why celebrity deaths can hit us so hard. At that time, I wrote that it was how that celebrity made us feel about ourselves, and our life situation; that it was the loss of that piece of ourselves that we grieved. 

I still think that to be true. 

But this year, I am also learning that it is about the loss of what is possible. The loss of what will not be. And I think that loss is the grief that is hitting us so hard, this year especially. 

And although a 'news-worthy' death doesn't hit you personally hard, it may impact others around you in ways they aren't anticipating. To you, it could be "just another celeb", but to a peer, colleague, or customer, that same death could represent dear memories from their past, or some seed of hope for the future.

Grief Leadership

The last few months have been a lot. But all of a sudden, the skies are clearing. 

And there is a very exciting discussion on social media - the importance of grief representation and grief leadership on the world stage. Grieving people feel seen and I think it is beautiful. 

Now for sure it is easy to answer with the tripe "he's so strong"... but what if we didn't underscore what WE thought President-elect Joe Biden was bringing to the table. 

What if we just listen? 

What if we just observe? 

What if we simply lean in and learn? 

Like so many things these days - the onus is on us to do the work. Take that uncomfortable seat, and continue to try to do better. Leaders who grieve openly aren't there to teach us the way, but we can absolutely learn from them. 

I, for one, look forward to learning from Joe.