 Twenty-two years ago, I awoke with anticipation. The day had arrived. Our Wedding Day. There was a timetable mapped out. Before hair, makeup and photos, I had planned to drive out to my mom’s gravesite because it seemed important to share a small piece of the day with her in some way. It was a day that held a small sliver of grief, but overall, it was a beautiful, sunny, much-awaited wedding day. The flowers, dress, shoes, music, and decor were, for the most part, perfect! Our friends and family cheered with us as we literally skipped into marital bliss. It was the beginning of a new chapter. Married life had its highs and lows, joys and sorrows, but overall life as Josh and Jenn Brown was truly great. It was a life packed with love, adventure, ministry and so much more. Remarkable. Unforgettable. Waking up 22 years later, on May 18, 2024, I wake with anticipation, but it’s much different. How will I navigate the sorrow that still rests in my heart on a day with many different activities planned? Do I even acknowledge this day? The answer is, “Yes. I must,” if for nothing else but my own grieving heart. Within the grief process, there is always a tension of what is and what was. A tension of remembering the beauty of the past and still trusting there is hope for the future. It is a space where both exist, and it is not always an either/or scenario. Today, there is sorrow for what could have been and often what I think “should have been.” There are questions that still linger. Personally, May 18 will forever be special – even if at some point I stop writing about it. There is undeniable goodness in our love story. There is undeniable sorrow in our love story as well. It is a medley of many things including a call to remember God’s faithfulness and goodness throughout. It’s still a day with raw emotions. (Even though I have been grieving this anniversary now for 4 years!) In my quest to find more words for this anniversary day, I’ll just leave you with song lyrics to ponder or listen to. Jason Isbell’s song, “If We Were Vampires,” brings tears to my eyes and also makes me laugh as I think about the debates Josh and I had about vampires. It’s sorrowful yet beautiful. At root, the lyrics speak of a longing for more time together with someone you love – there's seemingly never enough time. We didn't get 40 years together but did have 40 years of life in all. For couples who have or will have 40 years, that is something to be treasured for sure. “If we were vampires and death was a joke We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke And laugh at all the lovers and their plans I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand Maybe time running out is a gift I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift And give you every second I can find And hope it isn't me who's left behind It's knowing that this can't go on forever Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone Maybe we'll get forty years together But one day I'll be gone Or one day you'll be gone” _______ P.s. Thank you to so many people who have been part of the Josh and Jenn journey for so long, and to the friends and family who witnessed our big day back in 2002. P.s.s. Happy Wedding Day for anyone celebrating on May 18! May God bless you greatly!
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 Time, love Time, love Time, love, It’s only a change of time. These are the lyrics to a Josh Ritter song that came to mind as I gazed at a photo from 5 years ago. A photo of myself and members of the Brown family gathered outside a favorite breakfast joint in Arkansas. We had just learned more about the brain cancer that had become part of our daily conversation in 2019. The photo now also contained the heading . . . “On this day, 5 years ago.” How could this be? On this same date in 2024 I helped with a race sponsored by an organization that had placed signs with the phrase, “Live Like Josh.” This foundation was started by friends of another Josh who passed away too early. This foundation and group of friends now helps carry on his legacy in various ways. At the event, someone asked me what my necklace meant and I spent time sharing about my late husband and about what had just begun to unravel 5 years prior. Her words caused me pause, "I had no idea you were a widow." Yet again on this same day, I recall that my grandfather Reese said his final goodbyes to this world in 2015. The day. May 4th. What a funny medley of occasions. I use medley even as the word feels a bit too cheerful for all of these facts. Yet the experiences of all these people and places does turn into quite the symphony of thoughts and feelings. A song that points to another word for this day. Hope. A hope that maybe someday all the parts will sound glorious in a whole new and unexpected way. That the joys and sorrows of a single day will no longer seems as dramatic. In the moment, evaluating all the pieces I think, “How can this be my life?” Yet it is and only option I have is to keep walking through the next day. Finding hope in the midst of heartache, finding joy in the moments big and small, and recognizing other people who also feel sorrow and joy maybe even on the same day. If I were to borrow the phrase “Live Like Josh” for my own beloved Josh I know he would once again remind us all that no matter what God is still good and that our hope is much more than what we see. May the memories also linger even when they almost feel awkward. And may the force of God be with you for he offers hope for moments of great delight and despair. p.s. Below is also an older video from our time in Nevada when Josh preached about hope (and the Goonies). It's one of my favorite ones that a friend from Virginia recently reminded me about. |
Author: JennHi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer. Archives
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