October 22, 2018
This Wednesday, October 24, is the fifth anniversary of our son Josh’s death. On that day, one of the best parts of our lives was gone – gone to Heaven and still present in our memories, of course, but gone – from our earthly lives.
Josh lives on in so many ways. As an organ and tissue donor, he sustains people throughout the United States; as the honoree for annual scholarships, many trade school students are helped in his name; and his horse and saddle, among other things, are where we can see and touch them.
However, such is the nature of grief that there are days when these things fail to sustain us. We just want to give him a call or go visit him or invite him here with a big hug. His father would far rather have Josh beside him using that horse and saddle, and I would far rather have him beside me enjoying a good meal at our table rather than just invoking memories of how much he loved a good steak or lasagna.
Wednesday will be a hard day. I will take flowers to the cemetery and then go to the ranch camp where my husband is so that neither of us spends that evening and night alone. We will talk about memories, but a place at the table will be empty and a corner of our hearts – a large corner – will be empty as well.
These are the times when “walking at the speed of light” is the most necessary. Jesus does not question our burdens, He just shares them. He shows us the way to walk on when it would be easier to curl up in a corner and shut out not only the world but Him as well.
This week I pray for His comfort and guidance, for His example in accepting the grief in our lives and reaching out for the joy. I always ask Him to hug Josh for us, to remind Josh how loved he is, whether it is 5 years after his death or many more.
I just want to continue to share ideas about grief and life with people who long as I do for comfort and understanding.