The depths of grief

7 November 2023 was exactly a year since I put Loki down. I’m sad about Loki, but when I woke up on that day (and every day since I lost my dad), the one thought that has dominated my mind is my dad. Loki matters, of course, but my dad is by far more significant. Every day, there’s an overwhelming lowness that envelopes me. I’m in need of solace.

There’s been a lot happening on the health front. Inflammation levels are going haywire coz of the stress from the grief I’m feeling, and it’s resulting in much higher levels of pain and fatigue. The physical setback bothers me, because it wasn’t an even playing ground to begin with. This has been difficult to take. I’m in need of a miracle.

As I reflect on how it’s been, the way my RA (rheumatoid arthritis) has left me floundering for a bit, I feel a pang of pain deep within. My usual comforts at home are no longer there. Neither mum nor dad are around anymore. I’ve been thankful for my aunts and cousins. They’ve come out with me to or to pick me from hospital in the middle of the storms that have been happening here. There’s been home cooked food, help with things I need to do at home, and visits to see me and Gamora. Some of my friends have popped by at different points too- and these have been great. Some have been in constant communication. I have some of the loveliest people around. I recognise that there are many blessings to count. Still there is a sadness that I feel. The blow that death has dealt me is harsh. As blessed as I am, I’m in need of comfort.

Life is so hard, when I think about it. Sure, we have some great things: family, friends, dogs, birthdays, anniversaries, late night phone calls/chats, holidays, beaches, etc. What an inexhaustible list of wonderful things we have to look forward to. However, not all we have to look forward to is wonderful. There’s death, illness, pain and suffering of immeasurable measure and for various reasons. These all happen on individual or large scales. It’s nuts. Yet, most of the time, unless the suffering impacts us directly, we’re able to go on with life and see its goodness. It’s almost unbelievable how life goes on in the middle of all the chaos. We’re in need of peace and calm.

Grief feels different for different people. We experience the world and all its beauties so differently. We have such intricately diverse existences. In diverse fashion, we grieve different losses of varying degrees. Sometimes the grief is simultaneous. It gets tricky when things overlap. Your mind finds it hard to distinguish one thing from another. We’re in need of heaps of grace.

How often have I referred to grace? I mean grace from God. The God of the Bible both in the harsh contexts of the Old Testament and in the more direct but still quite bizarre contexts of the New Testament is constantly known as the God of grace. It is so hard to swallow this when we look around us and see life decaying – whether by old age, illness, and a whole host of other variables. It’s hard to imagine the existence of grace when we’re crushed or in our low times. We’re in need of faith.

It can’t be just me (in my present low state), and I’m sure that so many others too, who feel the unbearable weight of our existence. I’m prone to reflecting on life in light of my faith. Am hoping that the later informs the former. Often the former impacts the later for me instead of the other way round. The blows life deals my faith are quite painful and often feel like a pummelling. How can I process this sadness? This is when I’m informed of the grace bestowed upon me and the world through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. More than once, He demonstrated that the darkness of our circumstances could not and would not overtake the light He brought into them. The light He brought seemed to have been diminished so cruelly when He was crucified. Such darkness enveloped the earth. For all who believed, it felt like fate dealt them a cruel, cruel hand. Thankfully, as believers know, the story didn’t end there. The light was raised up and restored. We need this hope.

The restoration of Jesus to His rightful throne is the light that fuels me in this time of darkness. I guess I don’t need to have the fear of missing out because of this season of grief. It’s okay if things aren’t okay for some time, though I pray with all my heart for the chance to feel lighter and happier again. The restoration of Jesus gives me hope for a similar restoration with all my loved ones. I’m especially looking forward to meeting my mum and dad again, though I cannot imagine it and the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. Tears of sadness for how much I’m missing them, and tears of hope for this present pain to end. It makes me think that perhaps as a result of this horrible sadness, there is a heightened sense of the grace that flows from God. I’m a recipient of grace.

My father’s passing leaves a gaping hole in my life. It brings up all other loss too – my mum and granny, especially, and the loss of some of my blessings like Loki and Patches, and health, even. Please don’t ask me how I am or comment on how well I’m coping. These are impossible questions for me to answer, and they make me what to throw up. Just know that there’s a battle going on within – between the brokenness and darknesses in my life with the light of salvation promised to me by Jesus Christ. I’m in need of grace. I’m a recipient of grace.