grief

The thing about grief that is most challenging is how different it is for everyone. For some it hits them like crashing waves on a rocky, unswimable shoreline, for others it feels like rogue waves hitting unexpectedly. For others it hits like ripples from a rock thrown into water, with a pattern of lulls and peaks. For still others it is like echoes of the past reminding us that the person was just here, while simultaneously reminding us of the emptiness to come without the loved one in our lives anymore.

For many, these feelings are intertwined with different emotions: Feelings of love, heart ache, loss, emptiness, guilt, shock, disbelief, and even anger. These emotions don’t always match with others who are grieving. For some people sharing their personal connection feels necessary, for others it’s private. From tears to laughter and everything in between mismatched emotions splash us like unexpectedly cold water, feeling that much colder when the people around us don’t necessarily respond the same way.

Like I said a few days ago, “I don’t have the words,” is sometimes the only words you are able to share… and yet they feel brutally insufficient. And so it is that the waves, ripples, and echoes hit us unevenly as we grieve. Each of us finding ways to make sense of loss, and finding ways forward… Finding ways to strengthen the echoes of fond memories while weakening the ripples of grief and loss.

My dad passed away last week. Today we did the paperwork at the crematorium, and we’ll do a family gathering in the fall. He had a stroke while I was visiting over the March break and he never left the hospital after that.

While at the hospital, my youngest sister was staying with dad late one night and she was feeling hungry. She said to him, “I’m heading down to Tim Hortons, do you want anything?”

My dad responded, “No thanks, are you going to get some nuggets of happiness?”

Puzzled, my sister asked, “Do you mean Timbits?

Dad smiled and nodded ‘Yes’.

Nuggets of happiness. This is a great metaphor for coping with my father’s death. There are a lot of emotions, and a lot to deal with. There is great sadness. But then there are also those moments of fond, joyful, and humorous times that I’ll enjoy remembering. Little nuggets to love. Little nuggets that remind me he is still with me as long as I choose to remember.

I don’t think I’ll ever eat a Timbit again without remembering my dad.

And while there are many other emotions right now, I know the memories I cherish, the memories I will share with my mother, my siblings, my wife, my kids, and even grandkids in the future, will bring me joy and happiness.