#ambiguous grief

[thebutterflyreveries]

“Don’t die—not yet, anyway. Linger. Stay a bit longer. I’m not ready to lose access to the world that only exists through you. There are still too many countries to visit, rivers to cross, mountains to climb, colors to see, flowers to smell, cuisine to taste, hands to hold, kisses to plant in the garden of our dreams. So please don’t go. Don’t burn the bridge to that place only we know. Linger, I beg, linger. Don’t die; don’t take away the world I’ve come to love.”

— @thebutterflyreveries

On tumblr.

[ambiguous-grief-girl]

“Ambiguous loss is a person's profound sense of loss and sadness that is not associated with a death of a loved one. It can be a loss of emotional connection when a person's physical presence remains, or when that emotional connection remains but a physical connection is lost. Often, there isn't a sense of closure.” -Mayo Clinic

[frothingatthemaw]

i miss you in a blazing fire.

[alt verison and text version under cut]

it’ll be better until the next time it happens.

it’ll be better until you cross my mind again

and suddenly my chest is up in flames of the gasoline love i have spilling for you out of

a cavity in my chest.

it’ll be better until i think of kissing you

in a roller rink that

was created in the names of you and i.

it’ll be better until it’s us in your bedroom again

naked and loving one another

in the privacy of our own corner.

it’ll be better again until we’re laughing in my brother’s bed,

white wash cast to your skin.

it’ll be better again until we both rot hand in hand,

parasite under skin,

living within bloodlines.

it’ll be better again until i see your face

and my chest is ablaze with love spilling out for you right at your feet.

it’ll be better again, you’ll promise.

-e. xx

[mpresearch]

Dealing with Ambiguous Loss

One of the gaps in grief work is understanding how to process ambiguous loss. Ambiguous loss exists on a spectrum, and it comes from the loss of someone either physically or mentally, but not to death. It may be losing a loved one to imprisonment or deployment, losing custody of a child, or having a loved one go missing. Traditional mourning rituals such as funerals, cemeteries, and church services allow for public mourning, but none of those are available to someone who is mourning an ambiguous loss.

There is a social stigma attached to ambiguous loss, and the loss can be measured on a scale of the following six factors:

the loss is minimized or ignored;

one’s feelings about the loss are either repressed by oneself or criticized by others;

there is little to no support for the grief;

a lack of opportunity to mourn;

others react poorly to what mourning does happen; and

there is a stigma attached to the loss or the grief.

Family members and loved ones of those who are missing may fit into any or multiple of those categories.

In order to best support those dealing with ambiguous loss, connecting them to people who are supporting and understanding is key. When that comes to a missing person, it may involve rituals around the place where the person was last seen or places where they lived or frequented. There are also days and anniversaries that come where the person may feel helplessness, a push to look for the person, or a drive to talk about them. Keeping a loved one's memory alive on social media or in the public eye may help those suffering with ambiguous loss. In other cases, it may bring people additional stress and make it difficult to move forward. Only the individual or family can make that distinction for themselves.

There will be some level of continual mourning until there is closure; for some, the closure may never come, in the case of a person being missing, a lifetime incarceration, or the loss of custody of a child. The suggestion of some slim chance, such as the person being recovered or a chance at parole many years in the future, may be enough to help someone hold on. It can also block the healing process for many who hold onto some small hope. Paralysis in life can be damaging if the loved one is unable to work or socialize due to the ambiguous loss.

Healing can come when individuals hold dual concepts of their loved one being present in some aspects and gone in others. With missing persons, that can be holding onto hope that the person will be recovered—even found alive—but also accepting that the person is not present and life must move on around the loss. It can help to create a new sense of identity around the self and loved one.

Many people choose to find meaning in this ambiguous loss, and that is a key to healing for those people. Advocates in many spaces are utilizing their grief as power and motivation. Ultimately, social workers and providers need to normalize this kind of loss to better help those suffering.

Grief counseling certificates and programs are not universal. Anyone building one of these programs should include coursework or sections on ambiguous loss/grief and the unique struggles that come along with not having answers or presence. Grief counselors should also advertise their services to those suffering from an ambiguous loss; many sufferers may not realize there are similarities or like-minds.

Sources:

Knight, C., & Gitterman, A. (2019). Ambiguous loss and its disenfranchisement: The need for social work intervention. Families in Society: The Journal of Contemporary Social Services, 100(2), 164-173.

[thewookworm]

I stopped making it a point to remember birthdays when I realized nobody ever remembered mine. Year after year, the only wishes I got were because of a reminder on Facebook.

Your birthday is January 11th, though. Do you think about me on April 28th?

[bp-demonz]

Hella missing the days when I was down in the pits and had no boundaries 🤙🏻

Sure, my back was a doormat for the majority of the time

But God damn it I miss the good times shared...

[gotellmama]

[grapesodadarkchocolate]

On My Mind- An unspoken grief

“A central process in grieving is the attempt to reaffirm or reconstruct a world of meaning that has been challenged by loss.” Robert A Neimeyer 

Ramble write: A form of grief that is not often seen or acknowledged though it is deeply felt and in turn is always there. A grief that never touches down or is truly named for its authentic pain. It appears to fade away and yet it is ever present. Ambiguous grief? Disenfranchised grief? The never talk about kind of grief where friendships become dust. Or neighbors stop conversing over the garden fence. Possibly family members become mute while nieces and nephews grow and change into amazing adults, yet never to be witnessed by the full extended family. It is where precious, irreplaceable time passes and nothing is ever honestly addressed. An avoidance of doing the hard work. The hard relational work otherwise known as life. The transfiguration of an ever growing, always learning life where humility is ever present and love is its essential undertow. 

“Each person’s grief is as unique as their fingerprint. But what everyone has in common is that no matter how they grieve, they share a need for their grief to be witnessed.”  ― David Kessler

The grief that happens when a relationship dies. Not because someone has passed but because one in the partnership has ended the connection. Snipped by unkind actions that they don’t want to address or simply pulling away, disconnecting and leaving silence in their wake. The fade away without any comment. The disappear. The loss that hangs and rises up again more during holidays or significant occasions- like graduations, weddings or funerals. The what that isn’t there. The void. 

“We become terrified of feeling pain, so we engage in behaviors that become a magnet for more pain. We run from anger and grief straight into the arms of fear, perfectionism, and the desperate need for control.” ― Brené Brown, Atlas of the Heart

The tempered reality that snips at moments while I am trying to bat the memory away. It is interesting what can arise and when. Sometimes the floating ambiguity is off the radar and then it reappears- just because. Not an intentional pull out but it arrives regardless. It is nesting nearby, I realize, as it shows itself again. 

“Because what is a ‘problem,’ really? The most generic definition is simply that it’s something that demands that you address yourself to it―and if life contained no such demands, there’d be no point in anything.”   ―- Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks

Other things can spin around and yet the loss is always there. Wondering how to come to more of a place of acceptance of the truth that has transpired. Peace would not be the word to define what is being sought here but finding a place for what will always be forever stuck. How to grieve honestly with what has been lost. Not solely for the relationship but also for the potential that could have been there instead. With extended family there is an extra trickiness, other threads that, though snipped, do seem to rise up more. Only knowing part of a persons connections with the “other.” The relationally “dead ones.” The ones that have preferred the clipping instead of, from my perspective, doing the hard relational work. 

“Once you give up on the unattainable goal of eradicating all your problems, it becomes possible to develop an appreciation for the fact that life just is a process of engaging with problem after problem, giving each one the time it requires.” ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks

So where can this naming or identification take itself so there is less of a drag felt? An ownership of my spirit I don’t want them to have. How do I release the dream of any form of transformation transpiring? I don’t think I have felt responsible for their choices but more the sadness over the loss or lack of connection. This unspoken grief never gets a funeral. It never gets named though it too is a tremendous loss. The challenge of standing tall in the place that I am is ever more essential. Holding where my heart asks me to be. 

“… that the presence of problems in your life, in other words, isn’t an impediment to a meaningful existence but the very substance of one.” ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks  

Love is hard work. Kindness cannot be taken for granted or assumed just because of a familial connection. The bottom line may be that none of this ever will make any sense to me. That will be my ongoing takeaway. Admitting to the sadness felt when it rises up. Speaking to the hurt that continues to be felt. That others need to do their own work. Needing to be true to what my spirit offers. That the truth of what a “family” looks like gets to be re-shaped or simply more honestly defined. Not necessarily the part about genetics or lives lived together but more about showing up for one another. Being there even more purposefully when things are hard or complicated or simply messy.

Will there always be a crazy ache felt—hanging out somewhere in the background? Will there always be a lack of clarity? The part that becomes a piece of the fabric I will always carry? How to say “Yes, it hurts” and admitting to the deep sadness felt. The confusion too that my actions don’t matter. Others and their own struggles take front and center demanding to be in charge. 

So as connection with one another seems so vital to me the release seems impossible. At least in total acceptance. That is why peace does not seem to be the word for me but more accepting it as a grief that is never acknowledged publicly and in turn needing to find a way to identity the release. The loss and the letting go. The puzzlement of it may always remain. Something that is not answered or solved but more about being experienced and accepting what is no longer there.

This all seems so disheartening for I believe life is grand and am grieved by choices that others have made. Sad about what seems to get stopped in its tracks and most likely will remain stuck. How do I stay with the delight and not get mired in what is only a takeaway from what is good? A choice I too am also making.

Trying to make sense as I take a deeper dive. The expanse of living with the intent of being more and more in the reality of what is ever present. My tolerance for the fissures wanes. The part that separates does more of a face smack. Less tolerated and clearly an incredible waste of life energy. Living a day, a moment, a breath with positive intent should be the only way to navigate our days. Otherwise it seems like such a waste —this life. The one and only one we are given being squandered though the potential for more gracious living is always within reach. +++

The latest in my corner of the world:

Editorial | Minnesota is under siege. This cannot stand. ICE presence has disrupted all aspects of life in Minnesota, and led tragically to the death of Renee Good. It’s the outcome of government overreach that favors force over legitimacy. by Editorial Board, The Minnesota Star Tribune, January 15, 2026: Read 📰