Grief Is an Equalizer

Grief is an equalizer on the human playing field. No one is immune to it. Grief has no respect for our timelines, our plans, or our need to appear put together. Most of us operate on the surface of life’s ocean with little regard for grief’s impact until suddenly one day we find it’s our turn to be churned around in the undertow. Grief leaves us wondering if we will ever get to come up for air.

I was on stage with a friend recently. She looked out at the large crowd and remarked that if every person in the audience were to reach out to our left and right, in front of us or behind, chances are we would all connect with another human who has experienced deep loss. It’s an image that hasn’t left me, especially since we’re in the throes of the holiday season. During a time that is hyped as merry and bright, the grieving walk among us. In my own life, I can think of those grieving the loss of a spouse, a father, a child, a grandmother, a dear friend, a partner, a mentor, and a pregnancy. Traditions can never be the same, and the search for the so-called “new normal” leaves us navigating the season which brings not tidings of joy, but waves of sadness. There is an empty chair at the table, a stocking missing from the mantle. The holidays can serve as a magnifying glass making loneliness and loss loom large.

Every single one of us experiences grief in our lives. For some of us this year, the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s will be a painful exercise in merely surviving the next thing. We would do well to treat those around us with some additional care during this time of year: the cranky shopper behind us in line, the homeless panhandler, the friend who cancels plans, the weary cashier, the stressed-out co-worker, the high-strung neighbor. It’s true that we can never know what someone is going through in their life. If we held all those stories, so many of them would be hard to hear, sad, and painful. Even the simple act of speaking the name of those who have died can serve as a gift to the grieving. They need to know we remember because they can’t and won’t ever forget the ones they are missing. We can’t fix anything for the grieving among us, try as we might we can’t change their pain or rewrite the ending. But we can pause, make room for their grief, sit awhile, and hold space for their story.

K.C. Clifford is a vocalist, performing speaker, essayist, and award-winning singer-songwriter who has been making records for twenty years. K.C. and her husband and two children call Oklahoma City home. She founded The Generous Kind community after the overwhelming online response to her #TruthBooking essays and observations on her honest and unfiltered life experiences.

This piece was inspired in part by the song “Salt,” featured on her new album.