A reminder about grief

Found out today about a coworker who lost her son. Of course I was immediately reminded of the day I learned my brother had died. The trouble with grief is that it never entirely goes away. At any moment something could trigger it again.

Of course, that’s also the wonder of grief. My brother is gone and I will never see him on this Earth again. But at any moment I can be reminded of him again. Sometimes it’s a random picture that turns up when I do a search of Google Photos. Like this one:

I’m not even sure what I was searching for anymore.

The pain isn’t acute. It stings still because I wanted to get to know the man who is rappelling down the face of the rock. Who would he have been? Meanwhile it’s good to be reminded about him from time to time. He’s not entirely gone.

And it’s a reminder of my own grief journey which has made me a more compassionate and considerate person. It grounds me in my faith too. As I went to find my blog post about my brother, I found this Lament that I wrote almost exactly a year later:

Why are you silent, Oh Lord?
  Where are the words of comfort?
You have taken away my father's son.
  You snatched away my mother's gift.
Before the time of harvest,
  While the fruit was still green,
  You pulled it off the tree.
Why give and take with the same hand?
  Was Bob ready when death led him away?

His line was cut off,
   And my children will never know his.
Photographs of joy are drenched with tears.
   Our memories are too few and fading.

Yet you know what it is to lose a Son.
   All of eternity broken in three sorrowful days.
If I have any hope, if my parents have any comfort,
   If we will see my brother again, if we will rejoice,
   It will be because of your sacrifice and grief.
Therefore I will fight through my despair,
   And I sing praises to you.