Love and Grief
Hope on Easter
I had a session with my grief counselor on Wednesday in preparation for today. I knew I would (and I did) wake up this morning with so much on my mind. I felt so conflicted trying to process what this day even meant to me now.
Today is Easter Sunday and three years ago Today, my son Derek passed away. I was emotionally drained and grasping for hope, to touch it, to feel it’s presence as it radiates warmth throughout my grief-stricken body to help me out of bed.
I managed to make it through the morning routine. Dave and I headed to sunrise service and met our dear friend Kenny there, who recently lost his wife Karen, his best friend, and who was a dear friend to so many of us. I think it was the first time I consciously went to church since Derek passed away. I am still trying to find my way back into the Living on my never-ending grief journey. After church, the three of us went for a nice Sunday brunch.
Did I find hope in the words of the pastor and those worshiping this morning? Did I recognize hope in my pieced together heart? Did I feel the warmth of hope throughout my body in the coolness of the damp morning? I did.
Baby Steps Holly
