At least

Four months before my high school graduation, I along with my family, watched as my dad breathed his last.  We were devastated.  We saw it coming months ahead of time, but that didn't ease the heartache we felt and still feel.

Nothing eases the depth of pain when someone loved dies.  Yes we can (sometimes) take hope in the resurrection but that doesn't take away pain.  No statements like, 'at least you had time to prepare', 'at least it was swift', 'at least you can get pregnant', 'at least you already have one son'.

No 'at leasts' lessen the empty ache.

(After I shared this with my husband months ago, he was reminded of a video he watched in one of his classes by Brene Brown - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1Evwgu369Jw )

Small

When grieving, holidays, birthdays and anniversaries are anticipated hard times.

What can’t be anticipated are the small moments, the unexpected comments, the emotions that suddenly arise.

When signing cards and realizing you’re still only signing three names; when a stranger asks about a sibling for your cute little boy; when your son says he misses him.  These are the times that can’t be anticipated.  These moments of grief are the ones that pick away at a person, the slow chiseling.

Big moments, times that are expected are a strong force for grief, in remembering, in sadness, and hopefully in healing. But these small moments, the ones unnoticed by anyone else are the undercurrent of grief work.