Peace In The Margins

My grandmother died in May – her birthday was Saturday. I had the honor of living with her and caring for her during the last years of her life. My husband and I have been trying to get her home of over 60 years ready for sale. Man, did she accumulate a lot of stuff! One item (actually a whole bunch of the same item) she had was boxes of photos. Historic family photos dating generations past and containing unnamed relatives; terrible, blurry photos of random candidness; as well as, everything in between.  These were bequeathed to one of my cousins. She chose Saturday to pick them up. We spent a little time together reminiscing, and for the first time since Nan had died, I cried. It wasn’t a gushing, snot-nosed cry, but tears were indeed involved.

Anne Lamott wrote,

“And I promise that the people you lose here on this side of eternity, whom you can no longer call or text, will live fully again both in your heart and in the world. They will make you smile and talk out loud at the most inappropriate times. Of course, their absence will cause lifelong pangs of homesickness, but grief, friends, time, and tears will heal you to some extent. Tears will bathe, baptize and hydrate you and the seeds beneath the surface of the ground on which you walk. Somehow, as we get older, death becomes as sacred as birth, and while we don’t exactly welcome it, death becomes a friend” (Almost Everything: Notes on Hope, 107).

I think about how Nan spent her final few years on earth – sad and lonely after the passing of her soul mate. God allowed her to also witness the deaths of all of her closet friends. I can’t really understand how she felt, losing everyone in her generation who she interacted with – those she grew-up alongside, those she attended school with, and those whom she dearly loved. I know she harbored depression, fear, anxiety – a desire to die and join those who had already made the eternal journey. Lamott confirmed this feeling when she wrote, “To have survived can be lonely” (Almost Everything: Notes on Hope, 118).

Scripture tells us, as believers, we do not grieve as those without Hope – we have a Hope. I believe this, with Hope we know that death is not a finality, and a time will come where, in our own death, we will be reunited with those who’ve gone before us. What that will exactly look like is more ambiguous. But regardless, Hope remains.

I know I don’t answer any burning questions in this post, like will the grief ever end or how do we get past this. I don’t know those answers. For now, the grief doesn’t end, and when I do get past this (if I get past this) I’ll be sure to let you all know. What I can say is the Scripture is right – and so is Anne Lamott on this point – feelings are feelings, but there is a Hope. As long as you grasp that Hope and never let go, you’ll be okay. Life will go on, and when each of us dies, life will go on. But those who remain can also have that same Hope.

Until next time,

Alicia