Grieving the passing of a parent
whom you love dearly is about the most exhausting pain you can ever imagine
experiencing. Last evening I was talking with a dear friend and expressing to
her the unending pain of what it means to be at four months without my mom. I
don’t talk about it every day, but it does not mean that the pain has somehow
dissipated or even become less frequent. Honestly, it is like living a life sentence of
pain behind invisible bars of anguish, and some days you simply don’t feel like
being perky and “in the moment” as you scramble to figure out how to adjust to
life without the person who gave you life.
What I have come to learn and
realize is that sometimes other people are not affected by the thing that pains
you the most and therefore, they don’t have reason to engage you in
conversation about it. My friend said to me, “…and meanwhile you grieve alone.
And it hurts.”
Lamenting the “transition” of my
mother is hard. I don’t ignore the need to grieve nor do I suppress it. In
another recent conversation with a pastor who recently experienced the passing
of his mother, he asked me “how are you grieving?” “Intentionally,” I answered.
This is not the time to be strong and pretend like I am handling it well. I am
human and within the human condition, there is a dis-ease within the mind, soul
and body called suffering, and that suffering doesn’t care if you are in the
store, or waiting at a red light, or sitting on the pew at church when it
decides to redirect your thoughts. That’s what suffering is. It is the
inability to control the emotional pain that has engulfed you, and yet you have
to respond. Sometimes with buckets of tears, other times in silence. 
I know that making the adjustment
to not hearing my mom’s voice anymore, or sitting at the kitchen table for a
cup of coffee or just laughing together about anything, will be a life-long
journey. Grieving is a thread within the community in which we all live. Some
people grieve the loss of a relationship, of an unrealized dream, a friendship
that went sour and so on. It might not be immediately evident that the grieving
process is happening, but it quietly causes a disruption in the everyday life
of the person who is experiencing it, and it is an unraveling thread within our
shared community.
The Apostle Paul tells us in
Romans chapter 12 that we are to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with
those who weep. The only way to do that is to remember that we are in community
with one another and to be aware of the unraveling thread called grief. It is okay
and perfectly acceptable to simply ask a person how he or she is handling this
experience. It is okay to invite him out for lunch or coffee and just be
present. It doesn’t make the grief suddenly disappear. Your presence is not
meant to do that. Everyone grieves differently in her own way and in her own
time. Your response opens a window of fresh air that is good for the soul of
the one who is suffering!