3/5/2023
I don’t know why, but I always hate seeing that word in relation to grief. I think because it implies a lack of control. If you are dealing with grief and loss, you already know we had…we have…no control. God alone is in control and I still trust Him. Anyway, triggers is a word that I have rarely used or even acknowledged. Yet it is the only fitting word for the last couple of weeks. Seems like I barely start coming up for air, then…boom!!! Something else comes along.
Every grief journey encompasses different triggers. Sometimes, due to my emotional state, something that would have been a small hiccup on this journey becomes something I’m suddenly choking on…barely able to catch my breath.
It’s hard for people around us because they have no idea the things that can cause us to spiral back down into our cocoon of grief. And yes. We know it is uncomfortable for you. But we don’t have a lot of control when the triggers hit in quick succession.
For me, it started with a funeral. Of course, it brought back memories of Ashley’s service. Very different circumstances, so I was able to be present for this service without deep grief for me (though my friend is now starting on her own intense grief journey and I so hurt for her.)
This was followed quickly by a wedding shower. Not gonna lie…wedding showers and baby showers are HARD, triggers because they are such vivid reminders that Ashley will have neither!!! (Going to a wedding or baby shower is a very personal choice. I have learned I can acknowledge my grief, while being happy for my friend. My grief in no way diminishes my delight for them.) Tears on the way there, tears later that evening…but truly, a sweet time, and I’m so glad that I went. Friend on this journey of life are so very precious.
Then Thursday came. What was so triggering about Thursday? No idea. And yes, some days are like that. Though working on the Easter baskets might have something to do with it. I cried most of the day; wanted to stay in bed…but didn’t. Took care of the dog and the chickens and the cats. But it was HARD. Dreaded going to work the next day because I never know if it’s a one day thing of being in the depths of grief or if it will lift. God was so gracious to me and I ended up being cancelled on Friday. And for whatever reason, Friday was better. No, definitely not completely back to my “normal grief”, but close.
Then Sunday…church. It’s pretty normal for me to cry during the worship music…expected. So, already some tears that morning. As the pastor was ready to. Begin preaching, there was something going in the choir, something medical. We all stopped and prayed and the service was put on hold for a few minutes. Very quickly, there were paramedics caring for this person. And suddenly, I was back in Ashley’s apartment with the many paramedics and EMT’s working on her. Two very different surroundings, yet my head an my heart were right back in that place…that place where my life forever changed…where Ashley’s life ended. Yes, PTSD was in full force.
In church, with assistance, the choir member got up and was able to walk out. And my heart cried out to God, “Why didn’t Ashley get up?! Why wasn’t she allowed to walk out that night and to continue to walk through this life with me?” Dear God, the pain in that moment literally took my breath away and left me in tears. Oh how I miss my Beloved Ashley! How my heart still aches and yers for my daughter…my Ashley.
Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is a new day. And I pray for strength to meet the challenges of it, to be a help and hope to someone else, to meet the triggers head-on (though at the moment I’m praying for a reprieve…I’m exhausted!) Those moments hurt, they stab my heart, bringing up memories that I’ve largely managed to no longer dwell on. Trust me, they’re still there, but I have much more control over when I let them out and the people with whom I now share those memories. For I have learned to dwell on happier memories and moments in our lives. They don’t erase the ending moment, but they certainly ease those last memories. And 26 years held so many beautiful, wonderful memories. I hold those closely to my heart, cherished in a place nothing and no one can touch. A sacred place.
Why do I share this with you? Because I want you to know that there are land mines and triggers on this grief journey. And I hope that in the telling, it makes you aware that maybe someone else is struggling today. And I hope that you give them grace and love in those difficult moments. And that you acknowledge their tears, and that you give them an extra long hug, and whisper a prayer in their ear, and say their Beloved’s name, and just offer space for them to grieve. Don’t let your uncomfortableness with their grief hold you back from loving them. Because our love of our Beloved is eternal, our grief will last until we join them. We, the Grievers, become more adept at hiding our grief because society doesn’t want to see it four years later. But it is there. And on the really hard days (or weeks!), when the triggers meet us at every turn…I pray you will give us grace and that you will lift us to the very heart of Jesus, who continues to give me grace and mercy on this journey. 💕
