Grief Warning
When my son was in college in Oklahoma, I recall a phone call where he said, “The tornado siren is going off, Mom, and I have to go into the underground shelter.” I said, “Ok,” and immediately turned on the Weather Channel to see where the tornado was going. After an hour or so, he called me back and said all was good and he was okay. It was just a warning. The tornado went the other way.
With a major loss of a loved one, we are not given a warning siren on where or when grief will swoop in and catch us by surprise. Grief comes in uninvited.
However, the holidays come with a loud megaphone and constant reminders that announce and parade grief in capital letters. We are gobsmacked both quietly and loudly.
Thanksgiving gently enters, and we find ourselves with an empty chair at the table. The ache starts, and the tears flow. Memories start a reel in our head with the recipe that our person loved or cooked in their own special way.
My husband’s specialty was smoking the turkey on the BBQ. I would go to the store, find a suitable turkey, call him, and report the weight to see if that would suit him. In his list of ingredients, he said to get a bottle of Coca-Cola. He didn’t drink it; he soaked the turkey in a brine overnight that contained the bubbly, dark liquid. The end result after 8 hours on the BBQ was a delicious, moist bird that we all enjoyed. The smile on my husband's face reflected the joy he had in serving others with his culinary skills.
Memories are the gift our loved ones left us. They come wrapped in tears as we reflect on what we had. And always, we can be both grieving and grateful. The two are not incongruent, but strange companions in our journey. This Thanksgiving, may you experience the remembrance of what you once had and the gratitude of what you still have. Happy Thanksgiving.