Grinding Through the Grief and Naming the Friday (Editor's Letter)
"Grief doesn’t always look like sobbing in the dark. Sometimes. It’s getting up and going into a long work day with a lump in your throat."
By Elizabeth Randolph-Montgomery
Hey Bloomies! Happy Good Friday to those who celebrate. Can I be real? Good Friday has long been a day I looked forward to because it was one step closer to Easter, the warm part of springtime (depending on when it falls), and almost always meant extra time for rest, since most schools and companies observe the day. However, this Good Friday is different. This Friday is calling me to be still and reflect on the grief I’ve been navigating over the last month.
For the privacy of myself and others involved, I won’t say what led to the added layers of grief. I will say everything transpired in the last two weeks and has taken me out in ways I didn’t know were imaginable. And, through it all, the grind and life continue.
There is, unfortunately, not enough bereavement time in today’s society. While most companies offer it to their employees, there’s always the expectation that someone grieving will eventually return to work and get back to normal. Due to this, many career women, predominantly Black and marginalized women, typically get back into the swing of things without sitting with their pain. But because I’ve unfortunately been on this road of mourning while chasing your dreams before, I know better than to stuff them in, which I’m proud of myself for.
Still, feeling your feelings while working and creating can be overwhelming, especially if you work from home. There have been days when I’ve broken down mid-sentence while writing about what’s going on in the Housewives world because a story needs to get out. I’ve also been walking the line between my work serving as my creative outlet and escapism, and resenting the fact that I have to produce to reach the places I know are in store for me. It’s. Tew. Much.
What I’m discovering in this time in my life is that grief, like most things, isn’t a linear experience. Grief doesn’t always look like sobbing in the dark. Sometimes. It’s getting up and going into a long work day with a lump in your throat. Or writing a trending story while your mind replays a situation you didn’t want to experience. Or sitting at your desk in silence, wondering how to make space for all this sadness when everything in your life is asking for performance.
As I continue to grieve and grind, I am filled with gratitude for having so many loving people in my tribe helping me through. My wife and I are mourning a mutual loss, and yet we've still found ways to show up for each other and be each other’s soft place to land (yes, babe, I took your line, lol). My family, especially my mom, shares how we’re feeling in this season and our check-ins. My friends sent me thoughtful words, and two of them made sure to check in with me when the grieving process began, allowing me to cry, vent, and eat a mediocre Chipotle bowl. Every gesture means so much and is keeping me afloat. And, of course, Bloom and Tea, especially the She Blooms series, have made me smile through it all.
I’m also comforted by the sacredness this day and the rest of Holy week hold. Good Friday reminds me that there is sacredness in the pause. That the world once held its breath in sorrow, and still, Sunday came. Honestly, I don’t know when Sunday will arrive, but I'm optimistic it will come soon. Until then, naming the Friday while continuing to show up for myself is all I can do.
“To be loving is to be open to grief, to be touched by sorrow, even sorrow that is unending,” bell hooks
Thank you for sharing and articulating what so many of us can identify with. Unfortunately I am far too familiar with being in the midst of the grief and grind. I appreciate your insight and being willing to share even while things sound like they’re still fresh. Wishing you all overflowing comfort and abundance. 💜