The second article in this series, Grief Uprooted: The Seven Stages of Grief: An Interactive Path Through the Phases of Healing, is Grasping.
Aligning with the phases of healing… phases is an interesting word. It is becoming more popular in the field of grief, as it means something we slowly go in and out of. The stages were designed by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, who studied the dying.
Grief Uprooted: The Seven Stages of Grief is a study of the living—and how we grieve.
Kübler-Ross writes about acceptance being our goal. But as the living, how do you accept devastation? Our goal becomes resilience.
In time, you will phase in and out of all of these stages of grief—and yes, even resilience, but for now, let’s look at grasping.
How do you grasp something so unreal, devastating?
Our minds have a mechanism called emotional denial. It protects the individual from being so overwhelmed to the point of complete shock, which in turn can shut the body down.
I know this all too well. After Rob died—as I mentioned in the first article, he fell to his death over the Niagara Falls gorge—I was also suspected of having cancer in my leg and was left on crutches for about a year.
Instead, I had osteomyelitis—a bone infection found mainly in older people.
Years later, I studied the effects of trauma on the body at Niagara University, and discovered denial and grasping were very hard for me. My body shut down and was unable to heal my leg physically. I fell the day I received the news Rob had died, I recall hitting my calf on a rock—and it hurt a lot.
As we move from denial to grasping, it can feel like a light turns off.
Grief hits—and everything goes dark.
Then the light comes back on for a moment—you recall the event—and then it goes off again.
You’re not crazy. It is your mind gradually allowing you to grasp the reality of what has happened in your community.
You may have been involved and still see the events of that day.
I am here to tell you—it is okay to let the light go off and on when you need it to. Let your brain rest.
Now, I mentioned acceptance as the end of Kübler-Ross’s study.
Guess what… it kind of goes with the second stage of grief for the living.
Accepting the reality of what has happened hits us much sooner.
Because if you don’t accept what has happened, how can you move forward?
To help you navigate your way from denial to grasping the reality of the situation, I have a few steps for you:
Step one—acknowledge your feelings.
Don’t push them down or away in the jar. You don’t need to reply to them or be part of the movie you feel you are watching—you just need to accept that you are emotional, however that may be expressed.
Anger—try sports, movement, or even screaming safely to release the energy.
Cry—have a real good cry. We also need to realize that we can be triggered even by watching the news or reading articles, is going to make us emotional.
For myself, seeing stories about the head of ChatGPT writing an apology to Tumbler Ridge stirred grief up for me.
You find yourself thinking… they should have contacted the police sooner.
Even in Toronto, my eyes well up when I see the name Tumbler Ridge scroll by on Facebook or on my TV.
Step two—seek solace in your routine.
It’s okay to let the light go off and let your brain establish some rhythm again.
Wake up, have a coffee or breakfast, call a friend, and go to work.
Maybe create something with your grief—art, poems.
Think about your body too. Maintain eating healthy. But… I love chocolate—and it’s okay to indulge. It can help lift your mood.
Sleep is huge.
Maintaining a sleep schedule can be challenging when your mind is ruminating on events or other worries.
Step three—don’t shy away from talking about your grief.
Either in a group, or reaching out to someone—even over breakfast or dinner at a local restaurant.
That reminds me of a story. I was coming home from New York, where I was aiding after the September 11 terrorist attacks, and I often stopped at a local pub for fish and chips—they had the best.
The bartender, a young woman, was wiping the bar. I remember staring at the wood grain so clearly—I was almost mesmerized by it.
She asked what brought me in.
I said I had just come home from aiding and started to share what I do.
She looked at me, almost confused, and said,
“No, you don’t.”
I was taken aback.
Then she said, “You’re drunk,” and walked away.
I didn’t really know how to respond.
To say the least, I didn’t feel so good.
I left.
A few months passed.
I returned to my routine, which helped me greatly in grasping what I had seen and experienced.
The same lady rushed up to me, holding a newspaper article about me.
She said, “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
We talked for a while.
And that became my place. My place to return to routine. My place to begin grasping that it was time to go back to life—mowing the lawn again… even when not everyone understands what you’ve seen or what you do.
I also want to touch on triggers during this stage of grasping.
We often move in and out of them. A song. A sight. A smell.
They can bring us right back into our grief.
Learning to identify them helps.
Be protective of yourself.
Give yourself compassion as you process all of this.
Because a trigger can turn the light on or off, and grief is suddenly there again.
This is all a normal process of grief.
And while the light may go out…
We can slowly learn how to let it come back on, just enough, to keep moving forward.
This article is not intended to replace professional medical or psychological support or care. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or need immediate support, please consider reaching out to Mental Health/Community Care at 250-242-2642.
We will be gathering online next week to hold space for this conversation—to talk openly about disbelief and the many ways grief shows up.
I will be there to answer your questions and to support open conversation around your grief journey. If you would like to submit questions in advance, please don’t hesitate to reach out at info@robertspress.ca. If you need additional grief resources, support is available.
Christine Dernederlanden, C.B.T., C.T.S.S., IAC Master Practitioner and Reiki Master, is a grief and trauma expert, author, and speaker. She is the author of numerous books, including Where is Robert?, and Grief Uprooted: The Seven Stages of Grief for the Living, and hosts the Grief Uprooted podcast. Learn more at www.griefuprooted.com www.robertspress.ca
