Last Sunday we concluded our last GriefShare seminar sessions for the past thirteen weeks. We like to end our time together in different ways. This time, we asked members write a message to their deceased loved one on a balloon, sending it into the skies. It’s a symbolic moment for most of the grievers. Taking the classes aren’t easy. If you do the work they suggest, there is heartache as the individuals work through their grief, although heartache is already there. After thirteen weeks, they are better, but they are not completely through their grief by any means. They are still widows/widowers/mother-less/father-less/a sibling or other loved one is no longer here on earth.

I like to think of the process of grief as though it were a road. Sometimes the road is  smooth, other times, filled with rocks and ruts. The grief road has traffic jams, but eventually the snarls ease out and we can slowly move forward. You cannot leave the traffic jam, you have to move through it to the end. That’s like grief, you have to get through the traffic jam or uneven road.  Some days are better than others. How do I know? I was that griever and though sometimes I didn’t think the traffic and rutted roads would ever end, they did.

I like this poem by Tennyson that reminds me of the grief passage:

The red rose cries, “she is near, she is near,”

And the white rose weeps, “She is late,”

The larkspur listens, “I hear, I hear,”

And the lily whispers, “I wait.”

Maybe you’re a griever and you are the red rose, anticipating that the end of grief is near. Or are you the white rose, aching for the grief to end. Or, the larkspur, wanting to hear it is over. But if you are wise and can wait, you’d be the lily. Wait. It will pass. Don’t avoid the traffic jams–ride them out. Don’t detour away from the rocky, rutted road it will become smooth eventually. Listen to the lily.

Remember there are many kinds of grief and loss. Not all grief is death. Sometimes it is life–with pain or illness, depression, loss of a job, loss of purpose. I could go on but you get the idea…remember, you are not alone. The Comforter is there.