It’s been a tough few weeks. Two different families I know quite well, lost a son. Another family lost a 9 year old daughter. A neighbor is nearing the end of his life in hospice.
As you well know, as we comfort others in their grief, we often revisit our own grief.
The good news is that hopefully we are more compassionate than ever because of our own experiences. Of course, it is never easy, but we understand the power of just being by someone’s side.
I had an interesting experience just a few days ago.
Where our son, Zane is buried is only a mile from our home behind a country church on a country road.
The other day, I needed to turn around in the church parking lot to try and circle back to meet someone.
When I pulled into the parking lot, in the distance, at the cemetery, I saw the Mother of one of the teenage men who had recently passed on. I was drawn to her like a magnet.
I walked over and hugged her. We talked for a long time. It was one of those God moments when He puts people together. It was just the two of us. So private. So personal. So unlikely to meet like that. So encouraging for both of us.
I told her that in my experience that over time, the gut stabbing pain would lessen but not the love or the missing. I wanted to let her know that for me at least, although there was no way around walking through the murky waters of grief (and so necessary in whatever way was best for her) … in time she would feel some relief from her pain.
I hope our time together provided even a molecule of healing and encouragement for her.
As for me, I still mourn for my son. I always will. I miss him to the moon and back. But now, when I think of him, I feel more love than sadness. I always did feel love, but now his memory is not buried in sadness.
Wherever you are my arms are hugging you in cyberspace. I stand with you in your journey. I hope the pain is lessening a tiny bit more each day and the love is shining brightly.