For months, I watched the life slowly drain out of his cancer-ridden body. It had come time for my family to put my childhood dog, Buddy, to rest.
The doctor injected him with a needle. I blinked, and he was gone.
They laid his body on the table, and with tears streaming down my face, I said my goodbyes. I prayed he would wake up, but I knew he never would. When the doctor took him away, I felt like a piece of me was taken along with him.
Ashley Henderson, and her childhood dog, Buddy, on her 16th birthday. (Photo courtesy of Ashley Henderson)
On that Tuesday in September 2022, I became acquainted with grief. But grief wasn’t the only thing I met that week.
The following Sunday, my family and I went to church, where people gave their condolences and hugs. One woman said, “When are you getting a new dog? That’s the only way to get over it.” May the Lord forgive me, but I was immediately filled with so much anger for her ignorant words.
I did not want a new dog; I wanted my dog back.
And on that day, I was acquainted with the societal pressure of moving on after loss.
We treat grief like it can be won by completing a five-step program. But you cannot finish grief– you just learn how to carry it.
According to a WebMD survey:
“58% of the people who were pressured said they felt expected to recover within the first 3 months. A whopping 81% of those mourning a pet, and 75% of those who’d lost a friendship or went through a breakup, said the same.
Even for those mourning the death of a close relative or friend, most (91%) felt expected to move on within 1 year.”
While there are five stages of grief analyzed in Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s book On Death and Dying, they were never intended to be used as a linear process with a timeline. Grief is not a one-size-fits-all.
According to the American Psychological Association Dictionary, grief “often includes physiological distress, separation anxiety, confusion, yearning, obsessive dwelling on the past, and apprehension about the future. Intense grief can become life-threatening through disruption of the immune system, self-neglect, and suicidal thoughts.”
So grief is much more complicated than just being sad. Grief affects one’s brain chemistry, which leads to a wide range of physical and emotional symptoms. So no, people cannot just decide to move on or get over it. But the brain can heal from loss and tragedy.
I have come to accept that my childhood dog is gone, but there are moments when the grief resurges, such as seeing another dog who reminds me of him or looking back at old pictures. Losing him taught me that it is OK to grieve, no matter how long it has been since the loss.
Grief never gets easier, a truth I experienced last spring, when my great-uncle Jimbo died, and I was brought back to feeling the heartbreak and difficulty of continuing life after losing a loved one. I felt the guilt of not spending enough time with him. I questioned why he had to leave. And I struggled to keep up with school and work because it all felt pointless.
Thankfully, my friends and my professors never told me to ‘get over it.’ In fact, they told me to take my time and rest. They did not invalidate my grief, but they did not let me drown in it either.
I will never get over the fact that I will never spend another Christmas with my uncle Jimbo. I will never get over the fact that my dog Buddy won’t greet me at the door when I go back home. I will never get over the fact that I have lost someone I love.
Getting over it implies closure and a wound that heals completely as if it never happened. However, learning to live with it acknowledges the scar that may not hurt every day but will never go away. Learning to live with it means you can coexist with your grief without allowing it to control you.
The most compassionate action we can take is showing up for those grieving and admitting that getting over it is not the goal. Learning to live with it is.
