How Long Does Grief Last? Longer Than Six Months

In My Heart Lies South, Elizabeth Borton de Treviño tells of her marriage. She was a California girl who married a Mexican and moved down to Monterrey with him back in the 1930s. 

At one point, she tells of how her father-in-law died. He had been a good man, and she would miss him. 

But she was surprised to learn that, as part of the cultural expression of grief in that area, at that time, she was expected to stay home for six months and do … nothing. No visiting. No entertainment.

In fact, she wasn't even supposed to play the piano, but this was too much. She moved the piano to a back room, so she could play quietly. 

Her father-in-law was an important person in her life, and she was expected to rest and enter into the grief. But because she didn’t necessarily feel horribly bereft, this all seemed so restrictive. 

And yet, at the end of the six months, she was astonished to see how little she wished to return to normal life. 

Here's what I found really interesting: as a daughter-in-law, she was expected to stay mostly isolated for six months. 

Her mother-in-law, the wife of the deceased, was supposed to stay mostly isolated for two years. 

As a culture, they had an expectation that if you had a major loss, you wouldn’t just bounce back. 

One of my dear friends lost her husband shortly after their marriage. She said, “At six months, I looked back and thought, ‘Wow, I really was doing badly when he first passed.’ At a year, I couldn’t believe I thought I was doing okay after just six months—I had healed so much. At eighteen months, I was surprised that I thought I had been okay at a year. I wasn’t! I needed to heal more. And at two years, I saw that even six months before, I wasn’t doing well.”

My friend didn’t have a cultural expectation pointing her to the two-year mark, but she recognized it after the fact.

Grief takes time!

And I have heard horror stories, like when a young lady's mother died and her coworker said to her two weeks later, “Oh, are you still sad about that? I thought that happened a while ago.” 

Which, to me, shows how poor an understanding we have as a culture of what it means to grieve, let alone grieve well. 

Lord, may we live in an understanding way with those around us. Please pour out your grace on all the brokenhearted. Pour out your healing oil, and let it soothe those places of pain, those places of loss. 

I ask for wisdom, Lord, that those who grieve would be able to engage with the wider world—which is not attuned to grief—in ways both appropriate and helpful. Thank you, Lord, that you are near to the brokenhearted. Thank you, Jesus, that you were a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Thank you that you bear our grief and carry our sorrows. We are privileged to be your children. In Jesus’s holy and precious name, amen.

The God of love and peace will be with you,

Amy Joy

P.S. This article and others appear in Walking Through Grief, some of my collected thoughts on what might be helpful, and what might not.

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