Grief is complicated. At times, the sting feels as fresh as if the loss happened yesterday. Most often, the pain is dull and merely a whisper. 30 years ago, at the age of 10, I lost my dad to cancer. It was a brief disease for him- 6 months after his diagnosis, he passed away. To be honest, my memories feel like a whirlwind of that time. It was a heavy, fuzzy, confusing time in my life. The hustle and bustle of hospice care nurses, dad moving into my room as he could no longer take the stairs up to his own bedroom, listening to soft music from The Platters while he slept in a hospital bed. “Only youuuuu, can make all this world seem right…”
I had BIG holes
I’ve got big holes where there should be childhood memories. Graduations, walking me down the aisle, learning to drive, witnessing the birth of his grandson who bears his name–all experiences stolen from me. My dad was my person. Without hesitation, I told anyone who would listen that he was my favorite. We spent all the time we could together–flying kites, being his personal caddy on the golf course, going camping in our Silver Streak camper. He adored me, and I knew it. He was a complicated man who made more than a few mistakes, but he made his time with me count. He came to know Jesus late in his life, and I am so grateful for his faith.
I have often tried to be the torch-bearer and gate-keeper for his memories. I don’t talk about him a lot. The love runs so deeply, it’s frankly hard to talk about. It’s a very lonely feeling. To clarify: it’s a joy to speak about him, to hear about him, to share him. But, sometimes I’m afraid that mentioning our stories and memories would reveal just how much has actually faded from my mind as the years have passed. I’ve reserved a sacred spot within myself where dad lives and our short time together doesn’t get lost. Make no mistake–the lasting impression and influence on my life is strong.
I’ve been working through this grief with my counselor recently. She has had to remind me that the death of a parent is a trauma that has lasting ripples that last a long time. When this grief isn’t acknowledged, it can show up in unexpected and unhealthy ways. I felt I had already dealt with this loss. After all, I’m a grown woman. I had a mom who did her very best to fill in the gaps. She eventually married a man who truly became a father to me. I had great men in my life who stepped up in significant ways. Life seemed pretty great! What I didn’t realize at the time was I was stuffing down my emotions and developing unhealthy ways to process it all. Now, I’m being reminded to lean in to the grief and acknowledge its place in my life experience.
I don’t often cry at the mention of my dad. My approach to grief has always been, “Just push through. Move forward. You can’t change this.” What I’ve discovered is that this was an unhealthy way to acknowledge this trauma in my life. God didn’t create us to walk that path alone. We have a soul, deeply rooted emotions, a need for connection, and the gift of shared experiences and memories. When we lose someone, their imprint doesn’t leave our lives. Grief actually allows us to keep an enduring connection to those we have lost. When you walk your grief alone, your connection is diminished.
When I was a child, many people didn’t want to speak about this loss with me. I understand why; it’s so awkward and sad. Besides the standard, “I’m sorry for your loss” what else would they even say? No one else my age had experienced this. There was no club to join. The school counselor didn’t really help. She wanted me to color a picture and color the parts of me that hurt. Really? A coloring page was supposed to encompass this pain? This sudden loss of connection with the most influential person in my life couldn’t be expressed with a crayon.
God Was Faithful
God was faithful, and He has remained faithful all along. My church family was consistent and loving. God would bring Scripture or songs to my mind that helped me find hope and connection. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalm 34:18
Singing “Amazing Grace” was a reminder of his favorite song, or seeing Arnold Palmer playing golf would bring a smile. Certain bible verses would bring great comfort, knowing that God would take this to help me mature and grow in my faith.
He will take our pain and loss and use it for His glory and for our good.
“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”
Romans 5:3-5, NLT
Helping Others
While I’m not an expert, I believe that we can help others walk this pain in a better way. What can this look like for us as we walk alongside others who have experienced great loss?
- Talk about the person who died. Say their name.
- Ask the person who has lost someone to share memories and stories. Share your own stories, too! I love hearing details I didn’t know about my dad. Just this week, someone told me he made amazing peanut brittle. I never knew that!
- Laugh when they laugh, but be willing to weep when they weep. (Romans 12:15)
- Avoid saying “I know how you feel” and instead say “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” Use your words carefully, but you don’t have to be silent.
- Do something to honor their loved one. Run a 5k, bake their favorite recipe they were known for, buy their favorite flowers.
- Bring a meal, take them coffee, clean their home, drop off a card.
- Listen more than you speak. Give them the space to share whatever comes to mind.
- Just show up.
We won’t get through life without loss. Thankfully, we serve a God who is big enough to care about every detail in our life. He promises to comfort us, both now and with the hope of Heaven. He will gladly receive our anger, confusion, and pain. He listens to us and never grows tired of us. He doesn’t get irritated or frustrated, He doesn’t get bored or roll His eyes that we are still grieving even 30 years later. He never tells me, “Just move on” or “Get over it.” As I’ve leaned into this grief, it’s become less heavy and more hopeful. I can see now that my kids CAN experience my dad, even though he’s not here with us. I can honor his life and protect our memories by sharing more about him. It fills me with less anger and sadness and more with an eager anticipation that I will see him again.
We can grieve with so much hope!
“And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died.”1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 NLT
