Joy Wasted with KB Dickey

Let’s have a heart-to-heart about something that might not be on everyone’s Thanksgiving menu – dealing with the empty chair at the table. You know, the one that’s supposed to be filled with laughter, inside jokes, and warm hugs from that special someone who’s no longer with us.

This post is a bit personal for me, and I’m opening up about it because, hey, we’re all in this journey of life together. Grief has this sneaky way of creeping into the holiday cheer, turning joyous occasions into bittersweet moments.

Now, here’s the thing – grief doesn’t wear a one-size-fits-all outfit. Men and women? We tackle it differently. Men might bottle it up, play the stoic card, and drown it out in the football game on TV. Women? We might shed a tear or two, seek solace in a chat with a friend, or indulge in a comforting slice of pie.

But here’s the tricky part – grief often wears a disguise. Some folks become masters at hiding it behind a smile or a joke. Signs might be subtle, like withdrawing from conversations, avoiding eye contact, or a sudden change in habits. It’s like they’ve wrapped their pain in invisible armor, shielding it from prying eyes.

So, how do you spot it? Look for the little things. The friend who used to be the life of the party suddenly opting for quiet corners. The family member who always had a comeback now lost in thought. Sometimes, it’s in the silence that screams the loudest.

Now, let’s talk about turning that grief into joy. It’s not about replacing the ache but finding ways to honor the memories. Share stories, create a little memorial, or toast to the good times. Laughter can be a powerful healer, and trust me, those we’ve lost wouldn’t want us drowning in sorrow or abusing alcohol or any other self-destructive addiction.

This is not just a personal post but also a reminder to promote awareness among my wonderful readers. Let’s connect, lean on each other, offer a listening ear, and be open to the different ways people grieve. If you feel someone might need help, it’s okay to gently suggest seeking support. But remember, it’s crucial to gauge if they’re ready for it or if they even want your help.

Speaking from my own space in this journey, I’ve found a peace that surpasses all understanding. It may not always feel like traditional grief, but it’s a process that works for me, allowing me to move forward while cherishing the memories. Sometimes, it feels like the world has entered the “Bizarro” zone without our loved one, but then I realize this world is like a twilight ground – we’re passing through. We’re not of this world, just here for an earthly experience.

These constant perspectives help me cope, and I encourage you to find what works for you. Embrace your unique journey, celebrate the love, and let it guide you to a place where grief and joy coexist.