As we come upon the 1 year anniversary of one of our darkest, saddest times as a family, I reflect on all that has happened. Family that has become closer, emotions that are at times a struggle to control, and the emptiness that still remains in our hearts. Life goes on and we've had some incredibly happy times, but yet, we still grieve.
This unwanted journey has been tough. We know we are not alone in it. Others share their stories of grief, we see stories of grief being circulated online, even our pastor recently had a message about Heaven while he is in the midst of his own grief. He eloquently said "You can go from making memories to living on memories." At times it seems like it has been longer than a year and other times it seems like everything happened just yesterday. But memories are what keeps us going.
I have learned all about the stages of grief in my various therapy classes. And everyone handles grief in their own way. What nobody can ever tell you is how long grief is going to last. And it can last forever. You just simply learn to cope with it.
We have learned what can be triggering to us and bring all those emotions to surface. Seeing someone that has a similar demeanor, a touching song, gut wrenching scenes in a movie...it can be instantaneous and the tears come.
One of my greatest, fondest memories was spent in the hospital with my in-laws, during my mother-in-laws final hours. She was in bed, no longer able to speak, and my father-in-law sat in the chair beside her. The family was unaware at the time, but his dementia had advanced to Alzheimer's and the words he spoke were few and far between unless a question was directly asked to him. I was alone in the room with the two of them while the rest of the family was meeting with doctors to determine the final steps. A music therapist came in the room. As you can imagine, I was so eager to observe her in hopes of learning what I can do with my future clients. But then, something amazing happened. Something incredibly magical and miraculous.
The therapist began to sing hymns, favorites of my in-laws. My mother-in-law, so desperately wanting to sing along, began moaning to the music. And my beloved father-in-law closed his eyes, raised his hands, and began to sing every single word to the hymns.
My jaw dropped open and tears flowed down my face. I was in complete awe of what I was witnessing. No longer was I observing the music therapist and her intervention, but I was observing the clients, my in-laws, and seeing the powerful impact of music. The session was done before anyone else came in. So the beautiful memory remains very personal and will always be etched in my mind.
It wasn't too much long after that moment that we were saying our final good-byes and she passed during the night. The same hymns the music therapist sang were played at her service. It was a chilly October day and the cemetery grounds were damp from recent rains.
Sadly, we had to say good-bye to my father-in-law only 3 months later, almost to the exact time during the night. Craig got to be with him in those final moments. Craig had a very supernatural experience in the room as his dad took his last breath. It was beautiful, but heartbreaking. Another special memory solely for Craig.
The same hymns were also played at his service. It was a chilly January day and the cemetery grounds were damp from recent rains. So many eerie similarities. They rest side by side, only being apart for three months.
The heaviness we felt during that time was unbearable. It lasted for quite awhile until we could gradually feel it start to lift. We relied heavily on our faith and each other to get through it. It did not take much for one us to shed some tears, even the kids. It was an extremely difficult time for them as well.
Craig's employer was extremely understanding and gave him whatever time off he needed. His boss even took the time to pay his respects. School was very difficult for me. My practicum at the time was working with dementia clients. My music therapy classes included learning about palliative and hospice care. Thankfully, I had very understanding professors (the benefits of having therapists as your teachers), so they were very empathetic and understanding of what I was going through. However, because of my experience with hymns, they have a triggering effect on me and I cannot sing them or listen to them without being overwhelmed with emotions.
Now, a year later, memories are flooding back. We're continuing to experience holidays and events without either one of Craig's parents for the first time. It's going to be hard and it's going to be emotional. It will be a new normal for us.
When it's all done and finalized, the memory lives on.
And so does the grief.
