My grief just caught me.

I had been having my best day in a week.  I got some great sleep last night.  I had my morning quiet time with lots of coffee all snuggled up on my couch.  I had plenty of time for breakfast.  I had a whole bunch of things to put on my daily gratitude list.  I felt great.  I felt content, happy, close to God.  It was a great day.

And then at 3:30pm out of nowhere, it hit me.  Jack is gone.  I should be sad.  And now I am sad again.  Sigh.

On Monday, Josh and I went to a grief group for bereaved parents.  I have been looking for the right kind of group for us.  The Catholic church has one, but it is at 10am every other Tuesday...so that one is out.  There is a highly recommended Christian program, Grief Share, but all of the local churches are 2 months into the 3 month program.  Hmmmm.... There is a group up at the hospital where Jack spent the last month of his life, but there is no way we can go back there at this point.  I don't even like to be in the city of Portland,  let alone that hospital.

I know how important it is for us to find our way through our grief together.  Many people have told us that the divorce rate for parents who lose a child is between 80-90%.  Not that we consider that an option for us.  I told Josh when we got married that I have a strict no returns policy, you break it - you buy it, ha ha.  We want to work though this together and address our loss head on.  Then one day an acquaintance walked up to me and told me that her neighbor has been going to a group for bereaved parents for more than 10 years.  She offered the woman's number and I took it.  The group meets 15 minutes from our house and the next meeting was less than a week away.  I promised Josh that if it was terrible, we never had to go back.  We agreed to go.

Monday night came and I was the one who really did not want to go anymore.  I don't especially like leaving the house these days.  After work it's dark. It's cold.  I'd rather stay home in my yoga pants and a fleece watching Fox News.  That's just where I am right now.  But we went anyway.  It felt unnatural walking up to the door of a complete stranger to talk about our shared tragedies.  Josh had to nudge me forward.  We walked in and the host welcomed us with a big hug.  I am a hugger, always have been, but I was not up for hugging strangers at that particular moment.  We were led into a room with 15 other parents who had lost children.  I can't tell you exactly what happened.  We were told that what happens at group, stays there.  But I can tell you we were welcomed by these other couples who shared their hearts and their losses with us.  Some had lost 45 year old children and some of us had lost infants.  Our stories were all different but our feelings were the same.  We talked about how the people who care about us often don't know what to say.  Sometimes they say things that end up being hurtful even though they only mean to encourage us.  (Please don't tell me that we are young and we will have more children.  And please do not ask me when we are going to start trying again.  We are grieving Jack and he will always be missed no matter how big of a family God blesses us with.  He has only been gone one month. We DO want to have more children but please give us some time.)

Josh and I talked a lot and others affirmed that our feelings were normal and shared their experiences.  It was sad to know how many people have gone through this terrible pain.  It also felt nice to know that we are not alone in our feelings and thoughts. I was sure we would get in the car and Josh would say he didn't want to go back.  But he surprised me and said he actually liked it.  So there you go.  We now have a date every first Monday of the month, with a group of people who want to help us walk down the road they have been walking for many years.  It is not a road any of us would have chosen for ourselves.  I do believe though that God is sovereign and He will walk with us each step of the way if we invite Him.  And that is why I invite Jesus into my day each morning over coffee.  Now the sun is setting and the sadness is hanging over me and I find myself looking forward to tomorrow morning already.