The Reality Of Grief

Somehow, I never guessed it would still be this hard going on three years later. That the tears would still fall like this. That the heart would ache so deep like this. And yet, I suppose that's because I never fully understood grief... 

I'm driving out to meet a friend who's recently lost her older brother. Suddenly. And don't I know the feeling! The feeling of suddenly having your life ripped into a thousand shreds with the simple words: "he's gone." The feeling of time stopping as you realize there will never be any future with them in it... there will never be more memories beyond the ones you already have. The feeling of utter sorrow as you experience emotions you never realized you had or cry more tears than you ever thought were inside of you. 

Her text a couple weeks before has me feeling all these things all over again as I re-live where I've only recently been myself...walking a journey and belonging to a club I never asked for. Saying a goodbye I never expected. But strangely, as the tears start to come to my eyes while I drive to see her for the first time since this tragic news, I find myself talking to the one I've lost. Telling him how I miss him and yet, how oddly thankful I am that his loss has enabled me to learn the language of the mourning. That even in his death, his story is still helping others. And I'm given the privilege of being part of that. Of coming alongside those now walking the same valley and letting them know what it means to survive this. 

Here, in the dead of winter, the sun is just rising as I make my way along the highway. Mountains turn pink with sun's rays and all the sky seems lit up with a little extra brilliance today. As I wipe away tears and listen to Christian music playing on the stereo, I'm reminded that there is a God. 

There is a God who's never left me in all these broken moments. Who has carried me this far and who won't stop ever. A God who catches every tear in His bottle and Who is working even when I can't feel or see Him here. The fact that there is a God must bear me up when the sadness feels like too much. 

Over lunch, she and I trade experiences. Two women now strangely bonded forever by the loss of their brothers - her's a brother by birth and mine, a brother by choice. They each died at a similar age in a similar way, and their death dates now stand only two days apart, albeit a few years apart. We talk about the dark days and the confusing days and the angry days and the tear-filled days and how it all just seems so wrong. So unfair. We talk about how you can't rush these feelings or talk yourself out of these feelings or let others "fix" you out of these feelings. That these feelings are evidence that you deeply loved...and they must be felt in all their fury. The questions must be lived...however difficult they seem. 

Sometimes weeping with those who weep means revisiting space where we've grieved before. And maybe that's what Christ meant when He said that those would be blessed who mourn...because they mourn together. 

After months of trying to find my own way through this sadness, it's not easy to go back and feel it all again as I look across the table and ache for the pain she feels. But this... this is where real life happens. In the trenches. With the ones you love. For better or worse. 

"In sickness and in health, in good times and bad..." isn't just a vow for those being joined in marriage. It's a commitment we all make to one another as we journey the road of life with all its unexpecteds. Sure, it's easy to love one another when things are easy...but to cry together and hold each other when things are hard? that's where relationships strengthen and the hurting survive... being the spirit of Jesus to each other's souls when it all seems too heavy. 

On the drive back, I feel emotionally spent. Tears fall again as I realize once again just how much I miss him. Former Marine and war hero. Devoted family man. Faithful friend. Brother to so many. Alex to me. In just a matter of months, it'll be three years since I received the news that caused a piece of me to die that fateful day. And ending I never could've seen coming. And yet, here I am... still standing. Still carrying on. 

Now, there are more better days than not and I'm slowing finding my way forward after such a heart-wrenching loss. But the reality of grief is that you never fully stop grieving. Never stop missing them. Never stop loving them. And, while society may find it strange that a heart could keep on mourning to some extent long afterwards, this is the acceptance that grief demands. Life has forever changed and I have changed with it. I was forced to. 

Sky stretches out a purple-pink and I'm driving back as the sun is setting in these short arctic days. In my heart, I hear the words once again: there. is. a. God. 

He is here in all this horrible and all this painful, spinning grace out of these dark moments and promising good even as it all feels so hard. And, through it all, He's reminded me over and over that it's possible to have joy even with tears in your eyes. It's possible to choose to believe even as you doubt. It's possible to be held even as your world comes crashing down. 

And in the dependable rising and setting of the sun, I am reminded that some things never change even though much changes and that hope will come and I will someday feel alive once again.