When you lose someone close to you, whether to death or through a breakup, your inner foundation can be shattered. Even for those deaths that are expected or the breakups that are “for the best,” it can feel like the walls have caved in, the floors have collapsed, and the roof has fallen.
Stabilizing and rebuilding can be long and arduous. Grief is a process that requires inner renovations as we discover our strengths and rebuild our lives. We can never plan adequately; the healing process is unpredictable and perplexing, so the best we can do is try to remain open.
Christmas of 2013 was a memorable one. I received a most peculiar gift, reminding me that loving forces are always guiding and accompanying us in healing – especially when we are moving through the slog of grief.
My mother died in Philadelphia on December 17, 2013, after living with cancer for years. I was 53 years old, with young adult children of my own. We held her memorial service on December 21. After staying for a few days with my heartbroken father, I arrived home in Maryland to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas morning on the farm, as was our tradition.
That Christmas was a blur, characterized by exhaustion and raw, tender emotion. We went through the motions of annual traditions, including hosting Christmas Eve dinner for family and friends who lived in Maryland. I didn’t want to miss out on that gathering with loved ones who would lift my spirits.
An annual Christmas Eve highlight is the silly “table gift exchange” after dinner. Everyone is asked to bring a wrapped gift of under $20 to be placed on a table to be selected, opened, and sometimes “stolen” under a detailed set of rules. Gifts are typically labeled as “male,” female,” or “either,” but somehow, I selected and opened a poorly labeled, manly gift— something called a “stud finder.” I had never heard of such a thing. Rapidly concluding that it was not a tool to find attractive men (which some of the young women around the table might have appreciated), the instructions revealed that it was a tool to locate support frames behind the walls of a home or building.
No one stole my stud finder.
It was a few days later, while quietly tidying up after the whirl of activity, that I spotted my stud finder languishing on a table in the center of the family room. Something caught my attention. Curious, I picked it up to re-read the packaging. I learned that a stud finder is a handy device to locate supportive beams that are hidden behind walls, and it is particularly helpful when making renovations to a home.
It dawned on me that the stud finder was a fittingly symbolic gift for me. I needed to find the framework hidden within me that would hold me up. It was a peculiar but perfect gift from God.
Mom was the strongest inner support in our family; she was the matriarch holding us all together. Mothers are our original source of life. If we are fortunate, they become listeners, teachers, cheerleaders, and companions. They love us in a way that no one else does, and they hold us together in ways we do not realize until they are not there. My foundation had been profoundly shaken. I was struggling to adjust to a life without my mother. I needed to discover my inner strengths and lean on the relationships that would support me in her absence.
The stud finder was a serendipitous reminder that there is, and has always been, a hidden framework holding me together, holding our family together, and holding our world together. I was being renovated, and I needed to find the inner structure of support.
Mom died ten years ago, and I now realize that my inner construction and renovations will take a lifetime. Before she died, my brother interviewed my mother to capture family history as well as her wisdom and insight. In concluding the interview, she advised: “Love one another; that is where all good things begin.” Her words guide us still.
Relationships form and support us. Love is the foundation for all of life. Although no one can replace a loved one, in time, we adjust to a new way of living. Interconnected relationships become reshaped, new ones are built, and we discover support. We love each other through it. Thankfully, help also comes from God, from the angels that surround us, and from those who came before us.
Sometimes, they even send peculiar gifts to remind us.
Reflection Question: What relationships support you?
Storytelling: Share a memory of a time when your inner foundation was rebuilt following a loss. What was that like?
Blessing:
May you discover an inner strength hidden inside of you when experiencing loss.
May you know that you are supported and connected.
May you be open to being rebuilt and reshaped, now and always.
Note: This particular format is one I envision for the book I am writing- a collection of stories about listening for God (or whatever your name for a larger Source of Love is) in your daily life. It is designed to accompany and help you listen in your own life. More to come…
Nesting in Wonder 