Surprised by Grief

Life transitions can be likened to a road that must be traveled. If we sit down at the side of the road in order to avoid the grief of changing views, we won't get anywhere!

I have been surprised by the grief I've had to traverse in the wake of placing my mom in nursing home care. So long as I was busy with caregiving I didn’t have time or energy to face the sorrow of the loss of my mother as she once was. Alzheimer’s had already taken my mother from me, but I still had the daily, broken solace of meeting her needs and demands of me. Our interactions had changed, but there was still a relationship: that of caregiver and patient. The nursing home placement brought this phase of my relationship with my mother to an end. It was an abrupt change similar to that of a death, and in the release from constant responsibility to meet her needs, I have been confronted with the cumulative pain of 12 years of watching my mother fade from sight. The monitor on my bedside table no longer channels my mother’s voice because her room is empty; there is only silence. 

It is difficult to come wholeheartedly to the Lord when we are in grief. This morning I remembered the chapter entitled “Facing the Grief,” in My Mom Has Alzheimer’s. I wrote of our human dislike of change, and of the difficulty of transitions in our relationships. I used as an example my emotions when my daughter married:

…for a time my daughter’s leave-taking left a terrible feeling of emptiness in my life. I clutched that emptiness to my heart and tried to rise above it on my own, because I had fallen to the deception that to come to the Lord would necessitate my facing the whole of my grief and pain. I had no desire to hurt more than I hurt already. I finally recognized the fallacy of the idea that God would require my heart to be ripped open and the contents emptied in order for me to gain access to Him. This lie was the enemy’s attempt to keep me from the solace that was rightfully mine in the Lord.

These days the lock my key fits perfectly is that of Alzheimer caregiver, but this role is also temporary. I pray that when my job as my mother’s caregiver comes to an end that I will bring my heavy burden of grief to the Lord quickly and willingly. He has promised that those who mourn shall be comforted, and I pray to avail myself of that comfort. My Mom Has Alzheimer’s: Inspiration and Help for Caregivers, Bridge-Logos Foundation, 2009, p. 28. 

 

The enemy offers us alternate sources of comfort that cannot satisfy when we are suffering from grief.  I’m praying today to “bring my heavy burden of grief to the Lord quickly and willingly.”  

Recommended hymn: Wonderful, Merciful Savior as sung by Selah