As grief marches on, you find yourself doing things that under normal circumstances seem harmless, but under the umbrella of grief hurt and cause you to want to stop time. I think because the seasons are finally changing in Tennessee, it really hit me this last week. Typically, when the leaves start changing and Fall begins to show its face, we say all find ourselves saying: “This time last year the leaves were much prettier” or “This time last year, it was much colder.”
This is normal, and it’s the way we maintain memories and mark time. Yet, for me, every day that I have said, “This time last year…” I remember that “this time last year” I actually had a husband, a friend, a companion, and so much more, with whom I was sharing “last year”. Sooner than I want to admit (18 days to be precise), I will no longer be able to say: “This time last year, Raouf and I were…” because we won’t. He will not have been here for the entirety of this year called 2016.
So what do I do with that? I grieve. I cry. I continue to live on.
So, what happens now in 2017, when I look back and say — “This time last year…?” I will ask the Lord to remind me of every good and beautiful thing that happened in this year, hard as it was. I will remember my boys and their accomplishments, funny jokes, beautiful lives. I will remember friends, who have loved me, eaten with me and cried with me. I will remember my beautiful church family, all the babies that have blessed us this past year, and new faces and members in our congregation.
God will help me to see it, to remember it, to be thankful for it. I’m not really ready to think that far ahead right now, but I know when that “day after” comes, He will hold me by the hand and open my spiritual eyes to see the blessings. That’s grace. I hope you’ve experienced it or will…too.
Grace and Peace