My Grief Story

I grew up in a farm community where people showed respect for those who died.  My parents believed it was important to attend the visitation and many times the funeral for members of our extended family, the community and our church family.  Death was just as much a part of life as was birth.  Living on a farm, I assisted in the birthing of lambs and calves and also watched the death of animals from sickness, naturally, or killed for food.

My parents raised me in the church and I came to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was in Jr. High School.  I heard and sang about heaven and remember sermons on the “great cloud of witnesses” from Hebrews 12:1.  I visited the cemetery regularly to place flowers on the graves of family members. 

My own grief journey began when I officiated at my first funeral at the age of 24.  I was on staff at Marysville First United Methodist Church and as the Associate Minister had visited the granddaughter of one of the members at his request.  Tami was 23 years old and was dying of cancer.  We developed a wonderful friendship and I was with her and her family as she died.  I came face to face with death as a young minister and watched the sadness and grief of a young husband and a family.  I realized then how important it was to walk with people in their grief and that there were no answers or words that could help the intense pain and sadness.  But it was important to be present and to be a support and comfort in their grief.

Then I experienced the death of my dear Grandma who was the most influential person in my life and faith.  She was 97 years old and was not afraid to die.  She looked forward to being in heaven and reunited with loved ones.  Her faith was strong and her belief in heaven strengthened me.  I was happy for her, but sad for me that I no longer had her physically present with me for love and support.  I shared her legacy and the difference she made in my life in my first book, Love Lighted Path.

The death that made me question my faith and ask “why” so many times was the death of my grandson, “JC” at eleven months old.  JC was the grandson born after I became a part of the family.  I had baptized him a few months earlier and remember holding him in my arms and dedicating him to God.  JC choked on a toy at the home of his babysitter.  There were so many questions and no answers.  Our hearts were broken and our grief was intense.  The hurt has remained.  I had to picture Jesus holding JC in his arms knowing he was in heaven to make it through the heartache, but the hole in my heart remains.

The death of my parents, my dad from complications of Parkinson’s disease and my mom from breast cancer that returned in her bones, left me an orphan.  I mourned my past and childhood.  I no longer heard the words, “daddy’s little girl” and no longer had a mom who could answer all my questions.  I have missed walking through life with them, but am so thankful for all they taught me especially giving me a foundation of my faith in Jesus. 

My mom died a few months after I went back to school for my counseling degree.  It was the first graduation without her, but I felt her presence with me.  I did an internship for my degree with Hospice and stayed after graduation working for six years as a hospice chaplain.  It was in Hospice that I developed a spiritual understanding of the dying process and had my faith confirmed over and over again that heaven is real.  I witnessed people talking with people who had died and seeing angels.  Heaven and earth connected and I was a witness.  I understood the need to walk with people on the journey of grief.  Grief begins many times before death and continues.  Grief is not just for families but for those who form a relationship and walk with people in the dying process.  I developed some very close relationships with those I cared for as a hospice chaplain.  I give thanks to God for the opportunity to learn and grow and to grieve.

My own grief has been defined through the death of my husband, Dave.  Dave began experiencing vision issues and depth perception while driving.  He went to the optometrist and was referred to an ophthalmologist.  Dave had an MRI and brain tumors were discovered throughout his entire brain.  The diagnosis came in February, 2015 and Dave died September 18, 2015.  During those seven months, we walked the journey of dying and living in the midst of the dying. 

I have never felt more sad or lonely than the evening after the funeral.  Everyone went home and I was left alone in the condo with my dog.  My thoughts and emotions were all over the place.  I was thankful Dave was no longer in pain and suffering.  I knew he was in Heaven and was healed, but who was I now and what was I to do?

Thus began my journey of how to live in the different.  I worked, counseled, changed positions, resigned, moved and moved again.  Life has been different and will always be different.  In the process of grieving, I wrote two books, Living In the Different which describes grief and the passages of sorrow and loss.  Then I wrote Life Lessons of a Lone Trooper which shares my husband, Dave’s, stories and life lessons.  Both books have been part of my journey and healing.

Through my deep grief, I have begun to share the journey with others through grief classes and seminars.  If God had brought me through grief and continues to guide me in how to live in this different life, than God has opened a new journey for me to share with others.

Through my blog and grief classes, I will share more of the journey and what God is teaching me about grief and how to live in this different life.

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the suffering and afflicted.  He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted…”  Isaiah 61:1