The morning after losing a loved one can be one of the hardest moments of grief. As one begins to wake, caught between waking and dreaming, your mind gathers the events of yesterday sifting through if they are real or not until it realizes that today and all the days following, that person is no longer going to be there. 

It’s been 8 years since my dad suddenly passed and I still vividly remember waking the next morning after he had taken his last breath in the early hours of July 4th. For a brief moment on that fateful morning, we were relieved that his pain and suffering were gone after he suffered a fall breaking his neck and leaving him, and his family with the news that he would never walk, eat, or breathe on his own again. We kissed him, sang to him, squeezed him, and said our “goodbyes” feeling content that there was nothing left to do but let his body rest and let his soul slip away to the Heaven that we believe he resides. But that short night of sleep did not prepare me for the gut-wrenching pain my heart would feel as my eyes woke to the morning sun only to realize that it was not only a nightmare but our reality. 

Yesterday, we suddenly lost a member of our extended family to what should have been a routine heart procedure. This husband and father never recovered and like my dad was kept alive on a respirator till all the goodbyes were exhausted. My heart aches as I know this family may have awoken today to those feelings of denial and overwhelming sadness. Today begins their journey on the road of Grief.

Grief, as Brene’ Brown puts it, is like a wave. A wave that rolls in and at times can brush up against your ankles and tickle the memories so you can pause and reflect on the good times. It can also be a wave with brute strength that comes out of nowhere to knock you right on your knees, sweeping your breath away and leaving you crumpled in the sand unsure if you can get up again. I know this family. I know they will get back up and the sea of memories will beckon them many a day. Some days it will beckon them to wade in deep, not wanting to come out. Some days they will pull up a chair on the sandy beach and look at how they sparkle and shine and dance in the sunlight. 

A balm to this plight of grief is time. Time pushes the bad memories down into the depths and lets the good memories float to the surface. Time keeps those tsunami-sized waves at bay when a scent of his cologne wafts through the air or a person with his likeness passes by or a phone rings with his silly guitar ring-tone. I think that is God’s gift to us; for time to allow the wounds to heal while the sand and waves soften the edges keeping only the memories that reflect the best of that person.

Uncle Mark, you will be missed. Those who know you and loved you well know the gaping hole you left. May you rest in peace knowing you lived a full life surrounded by the ones you love.