Day 15: Cherishing Our Unhappiness (6th August)

 

The Reading Today

• Daily Theme: Guilt in Recovery and the Ego of Grief
• Source Material: A Grief Observed

My Reflection

In today’s excerpt, Lewis continues to untangle the complicated emotions following the loss of his wife, Joy ("H."). He notices a subtle shift in his state of mind:

"...In some sense I 'feel better', and with that comes at once a sort of shame..."

He muses that a certain preoccupation with prolonging his unhappiness might actually be grounded in a form of vanity. He recognizes in himself a desire to prove that his love—and therefore his pain—is on a grand, sweeping scale; that he and Joy were "tragic heroes" rather than "just ordinary privates in the huge army of the bereaved." Yet, in his quieter moments of honesty, he admits that nobody truly wants raw grief to be endlessly prolonged.

Reading this brought back strong memories of my own grieving process. As time passes and you move further away from the initial loss, the person you loved begins to feel like something of a ghost. I remember forcing myself to try and recall small details—struggling to hold onto the exact cadence of their voice or the sound of their laughter.

As the initial shock began to diminish, I felt an unexpected wave of guilt because I was no longer crying all the time. Lewis previously described his grief as a kind of physical fear, and that remains the only word that accurately describes my own initial reaction. But as that acute fear subsides, carrying on with daily life can feel like a subtle act of betrayal.

The initial, excruciating state of shock keeps the person intensely fresh in your mind, but holding onto that state makes it impossible to continue living your own life. I believe much of this conflict is grounded in underlying anger at the loss itself.

Some days, I go hours without thinking about the people I've lost; on other days, they never leave my mind for a single moment. It makes me wonder: Is this what people truly mean when they speak of being "haunted"?

 

Why This Matters

Healing is not betrayal. Feeling a moment of peace, laughing at a joke, or going a day without crying does not mean we loved the person any less. Grief naturally changes shape over time—from an acute, agonizing storm into a quiet, unpredictable tide. Allowing ourselves to feel better is simply honoring the life we still have to live.

My Action for Today

Today, if I experience a moment of joy or lightness, I will embrace it without guilt. I will accept that missing someone doesn't require me to remain unhappy to prove the depth of my love.

Reader Question

Have you ever felt that strange pang of guilt when you realized you were starting to smile or feel "normal" again after a major loss?