Death. It isn’t exactly the most uplifting of topics, especially at this time of year. The holidays connect us to friends and family, so we feel their loss much more intensely. Death, and the accompanying grief, don’t care about dates on the calendar. Death will leave it’s calling card, regardless of what’s going on in your life, and it isn’t selective in terms of age, race, or creed. To quote the Broadway’s Hamilton, “Death doesn’t discriminate against the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes. And we keep living anyway…” The difference between death and grief is that death happens in an instant, while grief can take years to get through. There is no expiration date for grief. You learn to deal with the pain.

The first time I experienced grief was when I was seven years old and my grandfather died. It has been nearly 21 years since that day and I still remember that gut-wrenching initial feeling and then the emptiness of loss, of a vital piece missing. I still grieve for my grandfather but the feelings have evolved. Grief morphs over time. You still miss the person but you’re able to reminisce about the good times. On the other hand, you also wish they were around for the experiences you feel that they’re missing. I believe they call that the ‘acceptance’ stage.

Grief is relevant to me right now for a number of reasons. One was the two year death anniversary of a dear friend of my family. What struck me was the tone of the messages that his family posted this year. They still mourn his loss - that will never go away. They’re expecting a new baby and his daughter is heartbroken that her son won’t know his grandfather. However, his family, my family, and all who loved him will tell this little boy everything about his grandfather, regaling him with all the tales of his life. Although he won’t physically know his grandfather, he will feel his influence and his presence. That’s one way to deal with grief - storytelling. It keeps their memory alive.

Another recent instance was that of a friend of mine, who lost one of her students, a 13-year-old boy, to a sudden act of violence. She questioned whether or not there was more she could have done, if she had just talked to him one more time or for a bit longer, maybe he wouldn’t have made the decision he did. It’s the guilt stage of grief.

Also bringing grief to the forefront of my thinking, was watching the Gilmore Girls Revival on Netflix a few weeks ago. If you haven’t seen it and still plan on it, stop reading now. In it, the characters deal with the deal of the Gilmore patriarch, due to the death of the actor who portrayed him. It was a two-fold catharsis. The actors were able to mourn the death of their costar/friend while channeling those feelings into their characters. Lorelai, Richard’s daughter, first deals with his death by joking at his funeral. That’s how that character ticked. Later on, she was pushed to climb a mountain, which was totally out of character for her (she doesn’t do the outdoors), and it brought on a moment of pure clarity on the side of a hill. That’s her grief experience.

On Friday morning, I woke up to news on social media that the mother of one of my favorite musicians had passed away due to leukemia. No one had known she was ill outside of those necessary. She was only 43 and left behind seven children and a grandchild, as well as a loving husband, parents and countless friends. It had been rumoured that her son had a new song coming out earlier in the week, but no one knew context of it, just figuring he was making his solo debut.

We’ve now heard the song and it’s an obvious tribute to his mother. Artists channel their emotions and feelings into their work and this is no exception. The lyrics are beautiful and the EDM style of the song, a new style for him, gives it an uplifting feel. His mother was uplifting. This is how he and her loved ones will remember her - a wonderful and uplifting person, who dedicated her life to her children and to charity.

Grief isn’t contained to death. We grieve many things in life, including relationships (be it platonic, familial, or romantic), change of job, change of location. We call grieving home “homesickness.” There are probably too many articles out there on how to deal with the loss of a romantic relationship. We all grieve in our own ways and you should not be judged for the way you grieve or what you grieve for.