Those of you who’ve lost loved ones know that grieving is never a straight path but fraught with many unexpected ups and down. And all of life goes on, regardless of our loss. So today I want to take you with me through the ups and downs of my recent grief journey.
On Tuesday, I headed down to Fresh Grounds, as I do nearly every Tuesday, for prayer for Downtown Ministries. When I reached the first stop sign on Plum Street, a delivery truck approached me. Immediately, my mind flitted back to when Robb was delivering furniture for Goldstein’s.
If he had a delivery near our area, he would surprise me with a visit—coming in for a hug and a bag of cookies from the freezer for him and one for his delivery partner. It was always a bright spot in my day.
Tears begin to course down my cheeks, realizing that I’d had no idea that those were “the good old days.” When Goldstein’s closed and Robb got into furniture liquidation, everything changed. We had no idea what was ahead with his change of jobs and then his dreadful illness and death. I experienced again the pain of those changes, as grief rolled over me in waves.
When I reached Fresh Grounds, I sat in the car for a few minutes, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose. I drew some deep breaths as I walked into the building, convinced my emotions were under control. Martha Johnson was sitting on the couch across from where I usually sit and said, “Good morning, Daisy. How are you today?” in her most tender tone. I broke down and wept again, trying to explain about the delivery truck.
I told Martha, “I thought I was okay until you asked how I was.”
She said quietly, “I saw your face.”
So even when I was convinced that I was “okay” and thought I had hidden my tears, she wasn’t deceived. I’m so blessed to have friends who aren’t fooled by a stiff upper lip, and safe places to go where it’s okay to cry. Eventually, I was able to regain my composure and go on to pray for the needs of others.
I shed a few more tears when I shared this incident with Donn, but life went on. A week and a half went by, during which I had a couple of delightful book events and a very enjoyable birthday with our family. I also had the joy of having our granddaughters, Sarah and Joy who lives in New Mexico, at our house for a couple of days. We went to the Pittsburgh Zoo and later, spent hours watching home videos of the family. Grieving was mostly far from my mind.
Then on Wednesday after our girls went home, I went to the chiropractor. A woman who works in Dr. Dan’s office is the mother of someone who worked with Robb at Goldstein’s, so I wanted to share the memory of the Goldstein’s delivery truck with her. Tears began to flow again as I told Charlotte that we hadn’t realized those were “the good old days,” because of how much Robb changed after Goldstein’s closed and he started working in furniture liquidation.
Charlotte said, “What happened, Daisy? How did he change?”
There was no one else in the waiting room, and I found myself sobbing as I shared some of the painful memories of how Robb had changed. As I shared one particularly painful incident, I told her, “I was so angry. I wanted to say, Who are you and what have you done with my son?”
Charlotte kept saying, “I’m so sorry, Daisy. I’m so sorry.”
When the patient Dr. Dan had been working on came into the waiting room, Charlotte quickly ushered me back to one of the treatment rooms. “Any time you need to talk, Daisy, any time.” She hugged me before returning to her desk.
Matthew 5:4 tells us, Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. How blessed I am to have a Heavenly Father and earthly friends who comfort me when I mourn, knowing that I am being comforted so that I can comfort others with the same comfort I myself have received. (II Corinthians 1:3)