Through the valley

A trip away from home is not always a trip away from grief. I find myself surrounded by beautiful mountains. This morning the sun rose later than I'm accustomed to back home, bathing the golden leaves of autumn in a beautiful pink hue. The day began as I hugged friends I haven't seen since my grief event occurred almost 4 months ago. Every conversation caused the back of my eyeballs to sting with the saltiness of oncoming tears. But every hug helped push them back to the reservoir they would be released from later. But when they were released in the solitude of my empty hotel room they came in a flood. 

You can't run from grief. It will search the entire earth for you, pushing aside good memories to flood you with the longing that will never be fulfilled. You can put it off for a short period of time but it will find you. And when it does, let it. 

Holding it in does you no good. All we do when we delay grief is allow it to build to something much less manageable. When the dam bursts it will flood your heart bringing with it every emotion you thought you had stored away. 

I am blessed to have such good friends that understand and want to be there for me. And this weekend includes a beautiful young lady who, at 11 years of age, fills my bucket to overflowing. What a great spirit she has to sense the pain and want to be with her new best friend. Everyone in pain deserves a little angel of mercy to help displace the hurt for awhile. 

Yes, I still hurt. Yes, it overwhelms me at times. But, the triage I am receiving during this visit is doing a wonderful job of patching my wounds to get me through to the next day. How I pray, if you are a fellow traveller down this road of grief, that God places people in your path to serve as a salve to your soul when you need it most.