Most of you know that I am a trained bereavement counselor and chaplain. Walking through times of grief isn’t new to me, as a daughter, granddaughter, and sister, and friend. I have held space for countless individuals and groups in their grieving process. However, the landscape is very different for me now since I am walking through the grief of my husband’s death…

Because of my training and work experience, I could teach about all of the emotions I might expect. I could explain what losses can/might be experienced. I can even discuss grief theories and practical tips for coping. I can anticipate what’s coming.

And then…

And then…

Like every other grieving person, I hit that BUMP in the road where the grief just overwhelms…

BUMP
A grief haiku

I missed the warning
And so my heart is learning
How to rest and heal.

My grief isn’t worse or sadder or more important than anyone else who is grieving Ken right now. It is mine. It relates to the grief my daughters experience. It is the loss of my person. One of my favorite persons ever.

The BUMPS of grief are… real. At times unexpected. And deeply personal for each person.

I may or may not want to talk about my grief the next time you see me. And please hear this: I do not want your platitudes. (No grieving person does!!!) For now, I’m putting my reflections out there for you to better understand those of us who are grieving.

My faith in the resurrected Christ helps me cope. It shows me the big picture. Faith brings a community of caring people who have created a safe space for me and my daughters. It whispers reminders that we ARE loved when the BUMPS seem so hard, so crass, so cold. Faith holds my memories and fears and self-doubts gently, tenderly, quietly. Without judgment, Christ helps me to feel without wallowing in those feelings. Faith allows me to cry. To be angry. To ask the unanswerable WHYs and rail against them.

I miss him every day. I sit with the unknowns and frustrations.

And yet…

And yet…

God’s grace is enough.