‘Head Space’: Manipulating grief

Brandon W. Hahn is a columnist for the Independent. /Brandon W. Hahn photo

By columnist Brandon W. Hahn

Is grief just a harder version of missing someone?

And if you deeply miss someone who is still alive, is that grief, too? I think it is.

I’ve gone through some heavy losses in my life. Like most people who have, I’ve learned that grief doesn’t follow the rules. It doesn’t arrive, stay for the appropriate amount of time and politely leave. It hangs around.

But I’ve also discovered that grief doesn’t always have to be the cold, stark sadness we associate with it. Sometimes, grief is a song.

Sometimes, it’s making a meal the way they made it. Watching one of their favourite movies. Finding an old book. Hearing one of their expressions come flying out of your own mouth.

Sometimes, for me, it’s seeing them in clouds or birds or little coincidences that seem almost too perfect.

I believe in a spirit world. I believe the people I’ve lost are still around somehow and watching from wherever “around” happens to be.

That belief brings me comfort.

But I’ve also learned to do something else with grief. I manipulate it.

That sounds sinister, doesn’t it?

What I mean is that I’ve learned to manipulate my own memories. Not change what happened. Not pretend something painful was wonderful. I just refuse to let the worst part of a memory be the only part I’m allowed to keep.

I like turning trauma into glimmers. An old argument can eventually become a life lesson. A ridiculous fight can become a hilarious story.

A terrible day can contain one tiny moment that, years later, makes me smile. I can’t change the past, but I can change the way I carry it.

There are still dates that hurt. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Holidays. There are still moments when grief shows up without knocking and rearranges the furniture.

I let it.

Then, when I’m ready, I start looking around for something else.

What did that person teach me? What did we laugh about? What weird little thing did they do that drove me crazy then and makes me smile now?

What part of them am I still carrying?

Maybe that’s the strange gift hidden inside grief. The relationship doesn’t necessarily end. It changes.

We keep having conversations with people who aren’t here. We make their recipes. Repeat their jokes. Watch their shows. Tell their stories. Sometimes we even argue with them in our heads.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Grief isn't something I want to defeat anymore. I’d rather work with it.

Take the painful snippets of my past and make them useful. Turn some trauma into glimmers. Turn sadness into gratitude when I can.

Because if someone mattered enough to leave a hole when they left, they probably left a few good things behind, too.

Those are worth keeping.

 Brandon W. Hahn is a podcaster, screenwriter and mental health advocate. He hosts Snackable Mental Health on YouTube and writes about the strange business of being human.