I have walked a road of grief and come along side many as they have walked their road of grief. I am not an expert on grief and mourning. I do not pretend to understand another's grief but right now I am in a season when so many around me are mourning, in grief so raw and fresh that I have decided to share what I have learned on this journey. I cannot walk it for you or tell you exactly what lies ahead but maybe I can come along side, shine a little light and give you hope. I don't plan to post on a certain day or follow a prescribed pattern because grief is not like that. I will write as it comes because grief does not follow time tables or predicted patterns. It comes as it will.
Grief is no respecter of persons. It does not distinguish between the young and the old, male or female. It doesn't care about the color of your skin, who your ancestors are, whether you are smart, ugly, rich or poor, a peon or the president. Grief comes to all of us, even old dogs and children.
My first encounter with grief was when I was child. Both of my grandmothers died the year I was eight. Was the word grief even in my vocabulary? I doubt it but I grieved. I remember that sadness and those songs that can take me back there even now. Yes, you liked or even loved the songs you chose for the funeral but now forevermore they will pierce your soul. Twenty-two years after saying good-bye to the Runner I can sometimes sing "Jesus Loves Me" without tears. It pierces yet brings joy remembering a little brown eyed boy who sang slow and off-key in that gravelly voice with his whole heart. Yes, Jesus loves me this I know.
"Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted."
Be comforted and wear red shoes for courage - Pat