We have all experienced events in life that bring us to tears. Some of these tears are heartbreaking due to loss-maybe a loved one, a career, personal belongings, a relationship, or simply plans and expectations.
How does one live beyond the tears? How long does it take to truly live again? Unfortunately there is no answer to these questions, but that means there is no right or wrong solution.
In our lives we have experienced significant losses. Having lost two children to cancer, we have experienced grief most don’t care to even imagine. We have found ourselves crying out for answers or the chance to turn back time. Sadly, none of these things have come. We have searched for philosophical, religious and secular rationales for our immense grief, only to find ourselves perplexed with more questions.
Over time, we have not lessened in our grief, we have simply learned to carry it with us in all we do. Sometimes the weight of this load prevents us from engaging in the lives of others, like attending parties or social events. Sometimes we find it hard to go to church, the store, the gas station. Friendships and relationships are often held at a distance, but at the same time so terribly longed for and desired.
We have met so many on our journey who have experienced similar or other incredible losses, and we have learned so much from them. We have learned over the years what works for us does not work for others and vice versa. How we release our tears is what connects us and separates us.
The majority of those who we meet on this journey seek the same, “How am I supposed to live after death?” We all teeter on the edge balancing what the world wants to see from us and what we can actually accommodate. We want to find joy after loss, but we feel guilt, anger, and sadness that our lives will never be enjoyed by those who’ve gone away. We always stand in the doorway of the future and the past. As we look ahead, we often find ourselves looking back like a small child looks back at his Momma before climbing onto the school bus for the first time.
Some of us embrace the adventures boldly “in honor” of those who’ve gone ahead. As well, some of us cannot dare to venture into the familiar territory of favorite activities, establishments, or events. Holidays never feel the same, birthdays simply change, and family vacations are always lacking.
For us, we couldn’t bear to eat Pork Lo Mein for nearly eight years after Elizabeth passed. It was her most favorite take out food, and she requested it every chance she could. She wanted it the night she was diagnosed with a brain tumor, but she didn’t get it. She wanted it the day she was diagnosed with leukemia. She requested it for summer the day we left for the hospital for an anticipated short trip. She begged for it in her final days, wanting it for her last meal. She never got it because her belly was too sick. We avoided it, and all Asian food, for nearly a decade because it hurt too much. Finally, in the last six months of Madeline’s life, she asked for this comfort food she so clearly remembered her sister loved. We finally decided to order it. Visiting our familiar restaurant for the first time was uncomfortable. The aroma of the seasonings filled my nose and made my heart split in an instant as the door opened. The stringy brown noodles spilled out of the packed box, bouncing onto the plate, flooding my mind with memories of my little girl eagerly salivating over the sight of this treat. I thanked Madeline for bringing tucked away memories back to my mind, memories I didn’t dare unpack on my own, but I was eager to fill my mind with them one more time.
Soon we bravely encountered things we had avoided for years for fear of hurting too deeply. Renewing these memories with our now five and six year old children allowed us to share stories we never had the chance to unfurl before. We connected to a little girl we had lost so long ago in a joyful trip down memory lane.
After Maddie passed, we decided that life is filled with memories that are joyful, painful, embarrassing, and humorous. We could box them up and put them on a shelf to be untouched until our hearts could bear it. We could also embrace them, keep them in our forefront, and share them as often as possible.
We know that there is no right or way to live beyond the tears. We also know that it is so important to LIVE. It is incredibly difficult some days, but it is vital to surviving the years until we reunite. We have learned to embrace the tears, let them flow freely, and we are learning it is possible to bottle them up and tuck them away without guilt. We are learning to walk forward without looking back every step of the way.
Praying you find joy today as you step forward into the LIFE you have been blessed with, even with the difficult pains of grief.