Christmas Grief Surprise

A Christmas grief-bomb hit me tonight. And the really crazy thing is that I did not expect it AT ALL.

As you may know, I'm pretty familiar with grief conversations and have learned to watch for triggers and signs. I know when things might be hard - anniversaries, birthdays, etc. Entering my fifth Christmas season without my late spouse, I have felt pretty good - even with recent life changes (new jobs, patterns, etc.). Yet tonight, I found myself suddenly crying at the end of an enjoyable evening.

Here's the scene. I said goodbye to my in-law family after our family Christmas gathering at a new place, walked my two nieces across the street to see a big Christmas tree, helped them get in the car, and then headed to my own car. I paused and glanced across the street at the church where I got married 22+ years ago and the thought hit me, "That's where it all began, the merging of our families." Then, suddenly, I was in tears. Dang.

Attending a Brown family function without the person who gave me his surname is easy because this family is so much a part of me. At the same time, carrying this name also represents a lot - including a missing piece, a missing person. And it isn't that he is out of town or sick. It is that he is no longer part of this world or these celebrations. And even after five years of learning to accept this truth, it’s still tough. His light, laugh, smile and presence is missed!

Grief is so complex, as are the emotions that follow closely. Tonight was filled with much great joy, hanging out with family and enjoying the young kids' eyes sparkle with moments of delight. Hope, peace, joy and love filled the air. So how does sorrow sneak into that? I am not sure. Maybe it's the contrast that causes it to appear so easily. No matter, I find myself puzzled.

Interestingly, this day also included attending a church service. During the message, a Bible verse was shared that I don't really remember hearing before. It contained the words Simeon said to Jesus' mother, Mary, after her son’s birth, speaking of Jesus future, his death (and resurrection), and even the heartache she would experience. "And a sword will pierce your own soul, too." (Luke 2:35)

As I processed this piece of Scripture earlier, I thought, this is what grief feels like - a piece of my soul has been pierced and I am here still without someone who was (and still is) greatly loved.

I wondered how Mary felt after watching her son die, even for the good of all. I expect it was a mix of emotions.

Tonight's emotional surprise pulled me back into my grief a bit. It had me asking, "What is this!" as I sighed and wished the sting of death didn't linger with such intensity. I also gave myself permission to feel it, even if it didn't make sense.

Once again, when I think there isn't anything else to say, there is another layer that appears. Friends, grief is complicated - no matter how long it's been. If you're grieving this Christmas season, I hope an emotional bomb doesn't hit you, but if it does, know that you are loved and that hope, peace, joy and love are still very much available even within your grief journey.

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A fun memory and photo of Josh serving as a host at a Christmas Eve Service during our time in Nevada.