I know- the title is a bit obnoxious. Still, I feel obligated to give due credit to the creature who taught me an important lesson while simultaneously poking fun at the ridiculous insults about my gender being weak. We all know how untrue that is!
Sixteen months ago, my life was suddenly divided into two parts in a split second. Anytime I think about something in the past, my brain forces me to determine if the event was BC- Before Caleb died or AD, After his Death. It’s a permanent geographical feature of my life as if a volcano erupted and split my property into two parts, with a rocky lava flow right outside my front door that I am forced to navigate every time I step outside. This divide also distorted my sense of time; it feels like the story I’m about to tell you is from a long, long time ago. In reality, it happened a short seven years ago.
While we were building our little farm in South Carolina, we were adopted by a feral cat. The neighbors said she had been wandering around those parts for a couple of years, but she decided it was time to settle for whatever reason, and we would be her people. She was incredibly affectionate and full of personality, the kind of cat that made cat haters say, “Well, I still hate cats, but this one is pretty special,” as she fell asleep purring on their laps. We spent months deciding on a name and creatively landed on “Kitty.”
Kitty just had one problem. Well, three, as we had three dogs on the farm, and they all wanted to chase her. One of the dogs had a strong prey drive and tried to eat her. We were terrified she was going to get hurt or killed and did all we could to calm the dogs down and keep her safe (I would not have chosen to put a cat in this situation, but please remember, she was the one who moved in). After a few days of this stress and worry, I was at my wit’s end, and then I witnessed Kitty’s incredible, instinctual wisdom. I saw our tuxedo kitty streak down the driveway from my kitchen window with the crazy killer dog behind her. As I bolted out to try and save her, she stopped, dropped to the ground, and calmly faced the hyper-fixated dog. To my amazement, the dog stopped, sniffed her a bit, and sat down. The other dogs came over excited, and Kitty calmly lay there, letting them get used to her. It took a few weeks for the dogs to adjust to her presence; every time they chased, she would lie down, let them sniff and bark, and eventually get bored and walk away. Soon, they regularly lounged together in the shade, watching the crazy humans sweat buckets while laboring in the sweltering heat.
I’ve shared this story several times over the years, bragging about the brilliance and bravery of our beloved barn cat. Then tragedy struck, and I experienced the instinct to run from the awful monster that had just hijacked my life. The moment I locked eyes with grief, I was utterly undone and sure it was going to destroy me. This terrible creature took over my entire house, efficiently sucking out all the air and light. With every breath, I smelled its stench and struggled against the crushing weight of its presence. It didn’t take long to realize I couldn’t outrun this beast of grief. I’d seen many people try and fail, as the coping mechanisms used to fuel their running just multiplied their pain and tripped them up. I decided to be brave and take a lesson from Kitty. I sat down, reluctantly acknowledged its presence, and fell silent.
Initially, I feared and resented grief and concurrently understood the necessity of hosting it. As my acceptance of our cohabitation increased, it demanded less space. Grief slowly became less of a monster in my perception. Surprisingly, I found its company refreshingly authentic and comforting, and my curiosity developed. I began asking questions and found grief to be non-judgmental, gentle, and wise. Although I would have never chosen to know it, let alone live with it for the rest of my life, I no longer feel like a hostage held against my will. It still feels strange to admit this, but I think we have become friends. I realize this may sound like a twisted Stockholm Syndrome situation, but it’s not. I have the freedom to kick grief out or make it live in the basement or the garage, but I realize this would be to my detriment. Its presence has increased my humanity, capacity for love, and pleasure and appreciation of all the good still in my life. I’ve decided I want to keep my heart open and alive, and I can only do that by giving grief its rightful space. Grief still sometimes takes over the whole house, but most of the time, it just sits in the room with me and reminds me of the great love that brought it to me in the first place.
Beautifully said! I have often referred to the grief in my life as a friend. Love you friend!
Julie, you have always been an example to me of someone who carried grief with dignity and hope.
As per your norm an exceptional pice of work
You had me at the opening line made me laugh down my toes! Knowing that in know way was that a term I’d every even consider in relationship to you!
So grateful for your heart felt words we send our love..
Ps I will be sharing your narrative as I feel you truly nailed it!!
So eloquently spoken, Lalena. Thank you for putting into words what many of us have felt but couldn’t articulate. May Jesus continue to heal our brokenness ❤️🩹
I don’t know why I don’t just get the Kleenex before I read your posts 😅 ❤️❤️
thank you for reading- It’s encouraging to know it touched you:)
I looked today and saw where I have an appointment on January 11th I hade an made an oil change scheduled for 1/’11/24 – The 50th anniversary of Brad’s birth. .. . . Was it a coincidence, or just his will?
Those special dates will always be a reminder. Sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it makes them feel closer (that has been my experience)
Thank you, Lalena.
thank you for reading:)
Lalena- I so appreciate your perspective. I’m so thoroughly amazed by your willingness to share some of your story with us. You are incredible! You opened my eyes to the two halves of my life. Where grief struck in an unwanted – but very much needed divorce. And my unraveling since then to try and understand it all. Thank you for sharing your story-it helps to see/understand the idea of making friends with grief. I’ve read your words over and over and somehow it’s like balm to my soul. Love to you in this season of time.
Jerusha, thank you for the encouragement- it means so much to know what I share helps someone else. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss and pain you are experiencing. I pray you find strength, hope, and healing in the journey. I truly believe there is something beautiful and miraculous in our unraveling when done in the knowledge of God’s love and presence with us. He is faithful to keep ahold of us as we blindly slog through the day-by-day pilgrimage of grief.
Oh brave, wise and beautiful friend! You deep dive for all the grievers. For all those running from their pain. I will carry your epiphany with me.
Janell, thank you for reading and being such an uplifting friend in my life!
Beautiful as usual. I wish I could write like you.
Beverly- you can’t have ALL the talent to yourself lol. Thank you for being my encouraging big sister all these decades:)
I hear “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” inside. Feels just like what fathers spirit says, a friend of grief, deep sorrow, so much that he was called that.
Love you, Lalena, thank you for sharing your heart and words.
thank you Leah for being such a dear friend and understanding my heart.
Thank you for sharing.
You need to publish, so many will be helped by your writing!
Sending all my love Lalena.
Thank you, Deb. It soothes my pain to hear others find my words helpful. I figure a blog is published enough lol. Maybe someday there will be more-one never knows! thank you for the encouragement
Once again you manage to put words to the unspeakable, unknowable, unforgettable and share a perspective that can only be seen as gifted. We have never forgotten our short time together, and continue to appreciate your deep insight and amazing wit.
Sandra, thank you for reading and encouraging me. While I was lying awake last night I was remembering our time in the Philippines and the incredible people we met- like your family. Laughing at the memory of three-year-old Caleb being paid with candy to go squash the huge cockroaches and spiders in our teammate’s rooms lol. That was a special season I am grateful for. I still hope to see you again!
❤️❤️❤️
Love you ! ❤️ You are such a strong compassionate soul. I have also made peace with my grief, and yes it intrudes on daily living but I push forward. None of us looked for this but it is ours and we must deal with it. ❤️
Bruce, my fellow pilgrim, I’m sorry for the great loss you are navigating. You are not alone.
Wow! Just Wow! Thank you for sharing Lalena. Beautifully written and I am praying for you. I love how He makes beauty from ashes. ♥️🙌🏼💯
Sheila, thank you for the kind words and prayers. I have felt the prayers this whole journey, and it has made a difference.
Wow. Love you
Love you too, Janet! thank you for reading:)
Your words are so moving. 💜
Lalena, you are amazing. Thank you for sharing this journey. Ive been thinking of you and Scott quite a bit recently. Hugs to all the family
Lalena, I appreciate the courage it takes to not only face your pain but also to be open about it. Thank you. You are a blessing.
Wow! I love love reading your posts…
You’ll bring comfort and challenge to think about my own life …
Lots to process
I love you so much❤️
Wow you are a gifted writer. “I want to keep my heart open and alive and decided to give grief it’s rightful place.”
Love you, Bernadette
Beautiful, inspiring, compassionate and unexpected, much like you 💕 oh and a bubbling of humor too. Thank you for your deep dedication to turning all to love.
Lalena,
I am always compelled to read your posts as they always speak in some direct way to me. God is using you in your pain and life with grief. I am glad that you approach it with strength and grace that only comes from our dear Heavenly Father. Thank you for sharing your vulnerabilities. I continue to pray for you, Scott, and the family. So blessed that our paths crossed!!
Love you precious friend!
I love you Kiddo.