Since last week, a deeper level of grief has been my unwanted companion. Learning of the death of a childhood friend, who battled relentless cancer for many years, sparked deeper grief that seemed to multiply and grow. Like an invading vine that creeps unhindered, grief covered me with its unwanted presence, sending my mind spiraling and leaving me unable to ascribe words to my feelings.
Following are thoughts on multiplied grief:
Memories
Grief is an odd companion; an unpredictable relationship. At times, grief vibrates at the edge of reality, but sort of leaves you alone. Then, without warning, grief descends, placing a tight grip on your heart and squeezing until you beg for mercy.
Listening to family members speak at my friend’s funeral unfurled a reel of snapshots of the past. Her brother mentioned Greenbriar Road, the street where we grew up, and said, “Where dogs ran free, and children played outside until the streetlights came on.” Those carefree days of childhood evoked memories not only of friends, but also my parents.
In recent weeks, I dream of the house on Greenbriar Road almost nightly. So many happy memories are associated with that location, not only my childhood, but hours spent there around the pool with Jim and our children. And, in the not-too-distant past, our grandchildren in that same house. The happiness intertwines with the missing, creating bittersweet nostalgia.
Multiplied Grief
Grief is complicated. Grief weaves its tendrils around your heart and mind, spreading, multiplying, until you realize you are grieving not only your immediate loss, but also long-ago losses. Not only do I miss the people, but that simpler, calmer, less chaotic way of life. I miss family gatherings with those who are now in heaven, and quiet evenings with my parents.
I suppose we must expect current grief to be linked with grief from the past. When lives are full, and interconnected with various loved ones, all that missing rolls into one huge ball, traveling at breakneck speed over your already aching heart. Prayer, and the dawning of each new day, ease the pain.
Navigating Grief
Finding your way through grief is challenging because the path is crooked, and forward motion is often halted. At times, grief is a two-steps-forward, one-step-back kind of progression. One day you feel as if you are making progress. The next day, emotions overwhelm and you are mired in a cascade of memories.
As you navigate grief, keep in mind that each of us grieves differently. Grief is an individual journey that can’t be compared to anyone else’s. Accept your personal journey. Rejoice on the days when grief lifts and give yourself grace when grief is heavy.
The Faithful Companion
Thankfully, grief is not our only companion in times of loss. God’s gracious faithfulness sustains me. In the darkest nights, I am buoyed by a supernatural peace that is beyond understanding. I am grateful for that unfailing peace and the comfort that comes with it.
When grief slides up next to you, whispers discouragement with stale breath, and grabs you with a firm grip, reach your hand toward ever-faithful God and hold on tightly. God is the companion who sees you through, and beyond, grief.
“Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God—soon I’ll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He’s my God” (Psalm 42:11 MSG).
©CandyArrington
Candy Arrington is an award-winning writer, blogger, and speaker. She often writes on tough topics with a focus on moving through, and beyond, difficult life circumstances. Candy has written hundreds of articles, stories, and devotions published by numerous outlets including: Inspiration.org, Arisedaily.com, CBN.com, Healthgrades.com, Care.com, Focus on the Family, NextAvenue.org, CountryLiving.com, and Writer’s Digest. Candy’s books include Life on Pause: Learning to Wait Well (Bold Vision Books), When Your Aging Parent Needs Care (Harvest House), and AFTERSHOCK: Help, Hope, and Healing in the Wake of Suicide (B&H Publishing Group).
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2 Comments
Amen my sweet friend. Your words speak volumes! I too think more and more each day of my home I grew up in. Both parents aunts uncles and all grandparents have gone to Heaven. I miss those growing up years too.
Keep writing your beautiful words. 🙏❤️
Thank you, Mildred!