Grief — a never ending journey

Tomorrow its been 11 months since my Pops passed away. In some ways its been the longest 11 months of my life, in other ways it feels like I was just holding his hand, watching him take his last breaths. This season of life is hectic, its chaos at times and for a while I shoved grief back into its little hole, pushing it down every time it tried to rear up..."not today, I just cant go there", I'd say to myself. "I don't have time for that." The weather changed here a few weeks back, turning into fall, a season I typically love. I found myself so angry inside. I couldn't figure out where the anger was coming from. I talked with my counselor about it, being assured this is all normal for the journey of grief. But, after our talk it hit me, all the grief I had been stuffing was memories of this time last year, the coolness of the weather, the sunshine, the smells, all those memories are flooding back. This time last year was extremely difficult in so many ways. I see now that walking through the difficult I didnt deal with alot of things that were happening, I couldnt. I was in survival mode. Its crazy to me how the weather can trigger the most bizarre memories of the last month we had with Pops on this earth. Some days, I just want to push pause and sit in my feelings, feeling every single one of them, but there is never enough time it seems. A couple weeke ago I was able to get away for a week, to slow down and sit by the ocean and that's where God met me and spoke so loudly to me. I wrote something after my first day at the beach -- God has allowed me to share it with a few people who are on their own journey of grief, maybe putting it on here will help someone else. I'm just being nudged to do it and I've learned 2 things here, we never know what God is doing on the other side of a prompting. One of the best excercises to help with grief is to help others with their grief, to validate them and to help them know they're not alone. I'm praying this helps just one.

The Ocean - I sat on the beach today and for the first time since Pops passed I felt like I could finally breathe. I inhaled deep. As I exhaled, the tears began to fall, "grief is like the ocean." How many times did someone say that to me after he died? And although I definitely felt it over the last 10 months — I experienced it today with all my senses. At times the ocean would trickle in softly touching my legs, bringing relief. Other times it would crash one wave after the other on the shore, when I was standing in it it would nearly knock me over. Sometimes the waves were refreshing, maybe because I had been sitting in the sun and I was hot. Other times they crashed one right after the other never giving me a break to secure my feet again. At one point I was sitting in the sand and a huge one came in without me seeing it coming and the effects of it literally slapped me in the face, stinging a bit but then it made me chuckle through my tears. How true is that phrase, grief is like the ocean. Sometimes the grief and tears relieve the pain and uncomfortableness, other times they hit so hard you wonder if you’ll ever recover and stand again. BUT, the most amazing part of this story is when God opened my eyes. A young family came and set up next to where we were sitting. It was fun to watch 2 little girls laughing and playing in the ocean. What took my breath away and caused me to see “grief like an ocean” in the most beautiful light was when I saw the father pick up his little girl and carry her out in the water.

He would help her stand and when he saw a wave coming, he gently lifted her above the wave so it wouldn’t knock her down, but she still felt the wave crashing on her legs. He did it over and over. They had no clue what they were exemplifying for me in that moment. God spoke. I had been asking Him to speak to me that morning and He spoke so loudly. He said, “my child, this is what I do for you as you walk this journey of grief out. I lift you up, you’ll still feel the waves crash, but ultimately you are safe in my arms. I won’t let them take you out or carry you back to danger. I’ll hold you in them.” Every wave that rolled in the sweet daddy picked up the little girl and then he would set her back down, standing, after it passed. Over and over, I could have watched them all day long. Grief is like the ocean, and one thing about the ocean is it doesn’t go away. It will always crash on the shores, but I’m so thankful to know that the Father, my Daddy, is holding me up, watching as the waves come and lifts me to safety, every single time. He won't stop. Yesterday, I passed by where dad worked for 30+ years and the memory that came to my mind was one I never saw with my own eyes, but I had been told about it several times. Dad would leave for work 30 minutes early every day, he would sit in his car and read the Bible before he would start the work day. what a legacy. What a testimony. What an example to be like. My pops wasn't perfect, he never pretended to be. He was real, He loved God, he loved his family and he loved people so much he wanted them to know Who Jesus is. As I continue to grow on this grief journey I'm learning its ok to have highs and lows - it will most likely always be this way. I'll never stop missing him. Just like the ocean, I may be ok one minute and the next minute slapped upside the face with a memory that brings me to tears, or laughter, but that is ok. One thing I KNOW, heaven is SO MUCH more real to me. Someone I love dearly is waiting there with my Jesus for me, not because he was a good man, although he was. But because he received the gift of Salvation, bought with the blood of Jesus Who died on the cross for the sins of all men. If you don't know that story, I would love to tell you what Jesus did for you too! Reach out!