I’m sure almost all of us have had someone die who we were close to. Those whom we have had to say goodbye to include husbands, wives, children, moms, dads, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, or friends. The list is never-ending and goes on and on. By the time we hit adulthood, the death of loved ones becomes inevitable.

Unfortunately, with death comes grief. Grief hits us so quickly that it knocks the breath out of us. We try to regain that stolen breath, but it can be laborious to find.

Grief is not a simple feat. It cannot be easily conquered or defeated. And if we aren’t careful, it can get the best of us. It can rob us of many blessings.

Grief is not comfortable. It is not welcome. It is not wanted.

Grief is:

-anger

-sadness

-fear

-regrets

-memories

-exhaustion

-anxiety

-depression

-insomnia

-tears when you least expect them

-empty feelings deep inside

– loss of breath

-pushing through the pain

and…

-fake smiles

Grief is all of those things wrapped in one BIG package. The most difficult realization is that no return label exists. Grief lasts all of our earthly lives. The emotions that emerge after a death remind us that grief is here to stay. It will last forever. Sometimes it hits us like a ton of bricks out of nowhere. That’s because our five senses have a way of reminding us of our past.

Just yesterday, I found a lipstick tube in my bathroom drawer that smelled exactly like the lipstick Grandma P. used. That one tube of lipstick took me back to her house. I could see myself as a teen, staring in her mirror, applying her lipstick all those years ago.

Glancing at my dad’s wallet on the bookshelf in my bedroom leaves me searching for air every single time. He pulled that wallet out of his bibs and tried handing me money numerous times. I most often declined. “I bought these things to bless you, not for you to pay me back,” I whispered. A little note in that wallet is gently tucked into the see-through pocket. He probably placed it there at least 14 years ago. It reads: Jacob B. owes $2. Goodness knows what Jacob borrowed $2 for when he was barely old enough to write, but he made sure to fill out an IOU for his Pawpaw Tim. Behind that note are pictures of not only Jacob, but also his siblings, my sister, and me.

Tasting any type of spearmint gum or candy takes me right back to Papaw P’s coffee table. I grabbed his candy or gum each day after school as we stared at the tube, watching The Adams Family, The Braves, or good old Sanford and Son.

The tenderness of Play-Doh takes me all the way back to Grandma Yvonne’s speckled kitchen bar. We sat together for hours and created anything and everything. My favorite was making a basket and filling it full of squishy eggs. She dried out nearly every creation and gently placed them on the dining room shelf.

Hearing thunder reminds me of Papaw Paul. When I visited Florida recently, we had a bowling pin-shaped pool. How convenient, considering it was a week after my dad’s unexpected death. He and my papaw bowled together for many years. When a huge FL thunderstorm moved in, I knew Papaw and my dad were bowling in Heaven. “Listen, Jaden, can you hear the bowling pins toppling over?” My papaw wouldn’t want to be doing anything else, so I know it had to be them. He was one of the sweetest men I have ever known.

I am thankful for the lasting memories. I know people say grief doesn’t disappear, but time lessens the pain. Maybe it will. However, with each loved one I have had to say goodbye to, I am reminded that Heaven gets sweeter every day. Grief reminds me that life cannot be taken for granted. Life keeps moving along despite our heartaches. So many who played a tremendous role in my life are no longer present here on earth. Many whom I always expected to navigate with have now gone on. Many of them left unexpectedly and much quicker than I ever anticipated.

Life is short. Grief is difficult. Grief feels uncomfortable in many different ways. It dreadfully pours out unexpectedly. It is painful to endure, no matter how it manifests. But God is good. He brings joy in the midst of grief. Simply writing those words is not enough. I have to believe them. With faith, hope, and God’s love, I can move forward and endure grief, one day at a time.

1 Corinthians 13:7- (Love) …Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.