4 years ago I was entering the first holiday season without my oldest brother. I bought my first Christmas tree and was decorating it because I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew this was the weekend we could get all things Christmas out and start decorating.
The last week or so, a lot of things have been bringing my brother to mind. I’ve been pressure washing for extra cash. Thomas taught me how to pressure wash many moons ago. He also, after making sure the strength was turned down, shot me with the pressure washer so I would have to be soaking wet while doing the job.
Some of Thomas’ favorite foods were meatloaf, beef stroganoff, and lasagna. The week after Thomas died we had 3 different lasagnas brought to our family. I swore I’d never eat lasagna again. I also haven’t eaten his other favorites… maybe in my mind it feels like since Thomas isn’t here, I can’t eat those meals again. It’s almost like they are sacred to me or something. Last Wednesday, the church supper was… meatloaf. It wasn’t until I was eating it that I registered what it was, that it was the first time I’ve eaten it in 4 years, and it wasn’t painful. I wasn’t triggered. I didn’t spend the rest of the night fighting off flashbacks to the week he died. I didn’t have to continually take my thoughts captive so that I didn’t think about my brother. I actually enjoyed it- meatloaf, except the band, has never really been something I enjoyed. It almost brought a smile to my face as I thought about eating a meal Thomas loved.
If you’ve followed along with my blog at all, I write about Thomas often. Not because I’m stuck in my grief and can’t move on, but because writing things helps me. I’m convinced the Lord will use my story… Thomas’ story to help someone else who is dealing with sibling grief. Thomas was 7 years older than me. The fall I got my drivers license, we both got invited to a wedding in a neighboring state. I’m not sure why, but we took my car and Thomas made me drive. It was about an hour drive. By the time everything was done, the sun had set and it was dark. We had to drive backroads home. In fact, we had to drive through a national forest part of the way. This was during the time when only the fancy, fancy people had smart phones. Our little flip phones didn’t have service for most of that drive. Hitting a deer on one of those backroads was a genuine concern. Thomas told me to turn my brights on as we traveled those roads. I don’t know that I had ever had the need to use my brights before. I got so focused on the conversation at hand, I don’t know how many cars we passed before Thomas said “goober, turn your brights off”. The rest of the way home he would have to remind me a car was coming and I needed to turn my brights off. I drove down that same road at night last week. Again, I don’t know that I’ve driven that road at dark since my trip with Thomas all those years ago. The memory brought a smile instead of tears.
If you search grief or images of grief on the internet, all sorts of results will show up trying to describe grief. I don’t know that any one image accurately describes grief. But I can tell you, my life has gone on past my brother’s death. I still have those really griefy days, but they are few and far between. My life has continued out of that season of grieving, but grief is now something that is also in my life as I carry on.
I remember the first Thanksgiving without Thomas. As soon as we finished praying for the meal, I had to excuse myself because the flood of tears was coming and I didn’t want to be the “Debbie downer” of the event. This doesn’t even account for the meltdown I had earlier in the day because we didn’t have the supplies to make green bean casserole. My brother was already not going to be present that day or be present ever again, and my family had the audacity to not have what was needed for my favorite dish? The Hulk almost broke out at my family home. Comparing that Thanksgiving to last year would be like comparing apples and oranges. I served at my churches community meal. I went home, cooked myself a Thanksgiving meal, warmed up an apple pie and ended the day watching the Cowboys play. There were some tears and moments of sadness, but nothing like that first Thanksgiving.
This is the 4th holiday season since Thomas went to be with the Lord. Will it be hard a times? Absolutely. An important person and piece of my family is missing. Even in the hard though, joy will also exist. Joy because of who the Lord is. Joy because even when everything feels too heavy, God sees ME and cares for me in those times. If you’re reading this and getting ready to enter a holiday season with a fresh loss, this year will be different. There will be tears. It may feel unbearably hard at times, but take it all one day at a time. Surround yourself with your people. Those who know you, love you and care for how you are really doing. Let the Lord be your comfort and your refuge. One day, I hope, you’ll be able to look back at this first holiday season and see how you have grown and things have gotten less hard. You’ll look back and see how you survived a season and a loss that you didn’t know you could survive.
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Grief. Going. Healing. 
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