EVERYONE’S FAVORITE CANDY LADY
Did you ever have a candy lady in your neighborhood growing up? If you didn’t, let’s imagine you did. If you did, let’s go down memory lane a little bit.
School is finally out for the summer. One of your favorite things about summer break is Miss Lee, she’s the candy lady in your neighborhood who all the kids love! She’s lived in your neighborhood longer than you’ve been alive. Miss Lee knows all the neighborhood kids by name, and she’s somehow memorized everyone’s favorite snack. It’s not uncommon for you to get to her house, during those hot summer days, and find a line of neighborhood children waiting for their turn at her screen door- she’s everyone’s favorite candy lady. You wait in line until it’s your turn then you ask for a bag of chips, a pickle, some Airheads, and soda. She’d ask you about your family members one by one as she gets your order prepared and hands it to you in a small brown paper bag. She always ends your visits with, “Tell your parents that I said hi and don’t forget to come by next Thursday! I’ll have your favorite chips back in stock then!”. Your reply is simple, “Yes ma’am, see you next week!”.
It’s the final Thursday of your summer break and you go back to her house ready to stand in line and get your favorite chips that she’s always “put to the side” for you. But this time you find an empty house-she’s no longer there. You, along with the other neighborhood kids, stand in Miss Lee’s yard staring at your hands filled with the money each of you intended to give her. Who’s going to get your favorite chips or ask about your parents? The other kids are just as confused/hurt as you are. Although you feel like she’s left just you, the crowd of children in her yard says differently. You all may not experience/internalize her absence the same way, but all of you feel the impact of losing her collectively. This is what shared grief feels like.
Shared grief is when a collective experiences the impact of losing the same person at the same time. Grief is an individual experience, not an isolated experience. It’s also not a comparison competition about who’s allowed to grieve the most/ hardest. How do you measure the depth of someone’s pain, hurt, or grief when they’ve lost someone they genuinely loved? You don’t. The comparison perspective doesn’t leave room for the hearts of those grieving the same person you are and making space for their grief doesn’t sacrifice anything from yours. Shared grief is complex, but it’s also beautiful. The beauty is knowing that the person you loved so deeply was loved deeply by others too. The money in their hands with no one to give it to is like the love in your hearts with no one to receive it. Grief is love that has no home. To be deeply grieved is to have been deeply loved.