Day of Rememberance
Next Tuesday is my day of remembrance. It’s been six years since my husband suddenly died. My journey with grief has taken on different dimensions as time has passed. Like inhabiting a house, grief occupies a space in my life. My “lived-in” grief is familiar yet surprisingly intrusive. It accompanies me when I find myself sitting at a table with couples and I’m the only single person. It slides its way into my walk with the dog, as I keep my head down while a couple kisses in the driveway. It hides out in the Costco parking lot when I see an elderly couple help each other out of the car.
It’s “lived-in,” as I see the days on the calendar offer memories of celebrations and places we visited. The photos that pop up on my phone poke at me with an ache and a smile as I remember the place where we were when the photo was taken. Life has continued amidst the abrupt stop where grief first made its appearance.
Each year that passes, grief takes an encore, where it arrives, steps on stage, and then exits. When I see the stage of my life, I’m aware that God’s faithfulness has sustained me and brought growth and change out of the worst experience in my life. “Before” marks how my life was, with “after” ushering me into a life I could have never imagined. God’s comfort and unfailing love are realities I live and experience on a daily basis.
Author and professor Kate Bowler eloquently says, “May I understand here the real work of life is found. Where it takes courage to live. Where grief can strip me to the studs and love can remake me once again. Where my heart can be both broken and keep on beating. Never sorry to have broken at all.”
(From The Lives We Actually Have)
Grateful for both the breaking and the beating. Grateful, yet grieving.