My Greatest Grief

First, let me say, I fully recognize my place of privilege. Okay,

that’s not true—being in a position of privilege means I don’t have to think about all the ways I have privilege and/or remember that I haven’t become aware or been made aware of some of those privileges. But I know I have them.

I know I have them in what used to be a normal life, and I know I have them during this pandemic. I know it; I feel guilty about it; I feel relieved I have them, and then I feel guilty about that.

Second, I am not trying to start a dialogue/argument about who has it the hardest during this time or whose grief is “more” authentic. Comparative grief is never helpful.

But this is where I am today. All four of our young adult children plus one boyfriend are living with us during this pandemic. That is a HUGE blessing. For the most part, our family gets along exceptionally well, and we enjoy spending time together. Four of us are working from home, and three are in school online—yes, we did have to upgrade our internet. During the day, we all work in separate spaces, and then at night, we gather for a family dinner, something I have greatly missed since becoming empty nesters. And the real bonus is they clean up!

So yes, there are some true gifts I am being given during this time. There is also grief and pain.

I am carrying my own grief; I am carrying grief from those I pastor, but the hardest grief to watch, and attempt to carry, is that of my children. And because they are all under our roof, I get a front row and center seat. Right now, I’m longing for the days when a popsicle, a cartoon character bandaid, or a silly song could chase away their sadness. Instead….

I am watching the grief come and go as they navigate the world today. Some of it comes crashing down at particular moments, and some laps at the shore hour by hour and day by day. And I get to watch it. I get to watch as they struggle with:

·       Separation from friends

·       Separation from girlfriends and boyfriends

·       A season-ending too soon

·       A school year that abruptly came to a close with little time for goodbyes

·       The temporary loss of a job

·       Recovery

·       Feeling distant from a new job

·       Feelings of inadequacies

·       Learning to navigate online school

·       Worry over friends and family members who are sick

·       Politics

·       Religion/belief

·       And the list goes on

I am watching, and there’s nothing I can do other than hold space for them, pray for them, and love them.

Two days ago, in a conversation about something else, my daughter said, “You know Mama, I get that you had to watch what I went through last year, and that was probably really hard. But I had to actually live it.” She was right. Now they have to live this too. The truth my daughter expressed reminds me I can't carry it for them.  So I sit and I pray and I watch.

And that is my greatest grief.