As for mortals, their days are like grass;
they flourish like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the Lord is from
everlasting to everlasting….”
Psalm 103: 15-17
I read an article a couple of days ago about the grief that people around the world are experiencing as a result of the coronavirus pandemic.1 There are a variety of reasons for our individual and collective grief. The one that tops the list is, of course, the lives lost to this unrelenting disease. We are now at a staggering 215,000 deaths in the United States and 1,083,000 worldwide. And the death toll continues to rise.
So far I have personally known just one individual – a high school classmate – who lost his life to Covid-19. And despite being an optimist by nature, I am steeling myself for the very real possibility that I will know more people who fall victim to this disease because the current short-term trajectory is far from encouraging.
At times I can tell that I am becoming numb to the statistics and this, in and of itself, frightens me. The last thing I want is to feel nothing at all.
So as difficult as it is, I continue to read the stories that people tell about their beloved family member, friend, or colleague who succumbed to the virus. The least I can do is to honor the memory of their loved one and give thanks to God for the difference their life made on this earth.
But as the article states (and as we all know), there are other reasons for our individual and collective grief. Job loss, closed businesses, missed opportunities for our kids, changes in the way we worship, limited social interactions, loneliness and isolation…. They all add up. And it takes a toll on each of us in one way or another.
Psychologist and grief specialist, Robert Neimeyer, points out that even our usual support systems have been compromised as a result of the pandemic: “People usually look to families, friends, and communities for support in coping with loss. But in the pandemic, we don’t have as much capacity as a human community to meet the needs. Nearly everyone has been affected.”
As I read the article, I was anticipating that it would end with some helpful ideas – a sort of “Ten Tips to Cope More Effectively With Grief” checklist. But in fact, it simply stated that acknowledging our personal losses and sharing our vulnerability can be helpful to ourselves and others who are grieving. And while I know this to be true, I was still hoping for something more…a formula for expediting the grieving process, a remedy to lessen the pain of loss, a strategy for side-stepping grief altogether.
Of course, there is no such thing. I have experienced profound grief in my own life. I’ve read multiple books and articles on the subject. I’ve facilitated workshops on change and the process we go through as we adapt to our new reality. Loss and the grief that accompanies it are part of the human experience. And for as much as we may want to avoid it, there is no going around grief; we have to meet it head-on and walk right through it, one slow, unsteady step at a time.
Yesterday was my sister’s birthday. It has been a difficult year for Patty. About a year ago, she suffered a heart attack, and since January she has been dealing with the stress of my brother-in-law’s health issues; he has been in and out of the hospital and is now at home on hospice care.
My other sisters and I ordered a lovely bouquet of flowers to be delivered to Patty, and I picked up some special cupcakes to drop off at her house. I pulled into her driveway, set the gift bag on her front step, rang the doorbell and ran back to my car where I waited for her to open the door. I could barely contain my tears at the image of Patty as she picked up the bag and looked at me with an expression of pure joy.
As I drove off, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a mix of emotions – the anticipated grief of losing my brother-in-law in the weeks or months to come, and a deep sense of gratitude for the love my sisters and I have for one another and for the love that surrounds us all. And I was reminded that joy and sorrow are two sides of the same coin, and that love and loss are inextricably linked.
I know that grief will come again. But for now, I’m holding on to the image of my sister’s beaming face, to the wonderful memories I have of my brother-in-law throughout the years, to the sight of the beautiful golden leaves falling ever-so-gently to the ground as I drove home.
Hold on to whatever brings you joy, friends. And above all, remember how loved you are.
God of faithfulness, We give you thanks for all that brings us joy. Comfort those who are grieving this day, and sustain us all with your promise that although our lives on this earth are temporary, your love is from everlasting to everlasting. Amen.
