Today is day of loss and remembrance for my family.  Two years ago we lost the matriarch of the family.  We lost her suddenly, unexpectedly, and therefore tragically.  For all of us, it was traumatic, for some of us there with her, it was especially so.  In many ways, she was the glue of our extended family.  She brought life and laughter with her.  She was probably the best listener I’ve ever known, and was always willing to be there and just listen.  She had a gift that made people feel comfortable around her, she had a sweet gentle kindness that wrapped you up when you were with her.

Grief is a strange thing.  Nothing prepares you for it.  It’s like trying to explain a hole.  How do you tell someone about emptiness?  How do you describe the nothingness that now exists in a place inside you that used to be filled to overflowing?  I’m pretty sure grief never fully goes away.  Because grief seems to be the opposite side of love.  The more you love, the more you grieve.  So I guess in that respect, it’s a good thing, because I would never trade the love to make the grief go away.  Not now, not ever.  Grief is a bit like surfing, strange analogy, but bear with me.  Learning to surf (grieve) is so hard at first, it’s nothing but getting thrashed by waves, pummeled by them, and ending up head over heels in the water and almost drowning.  But in time, you get better.  You stay up longer on the board, and spend less time nearly drowning.  Then suddenly, you are riding a wave, the sun’s in your face, the wind is blowing, and you are living.  You laugh with less grief, then you laugh with no guilt.  All of a sudden you are living life, experiencing joy, and knowing that’s exactly what she would want you to do.

Make no mistake, at the same time, the loss is there, just under you, present, but not trying to drown you every moment.  And yes, at times the spray of the water blinds you and you struggle to stay up, and yes, at times the wave catches up and takes you under.  Those times get fewer, and you’re hammered into the sand less often, but it still happens.  It will happen the rest of your life, because the love that made the grief possible, never goes away either.  So I think there’s beauty in grief, it makes us fully human.  We love, we lose, we carry on, we laugh, we cry, we rejoice, we weep.  May you always be surrounded by your people in those moments.  Those moments when the wave catches up and takes you down.

Today the wind is blowing hard, the spray is in our faces, and honestly, the wave will probably come up over the top of many of us today.  I wish we were all together as we go tumbling head over heels into the water, holding hands as we feel like we are drowning.  Today we remember our mighty woman of God, she was such a blessing.  Our loss is her gain, because where she is there’s no more sorry, no more pain.  For us, today is a day to mourn, cry, love, remember, and eventually laugh.  Just as she would want us to.  We miss you Muzzy.

Grace and Peace.