I like to travel. And one of my goals since being newly widowed is to travel more. However, when it comes to flying, I have a moderate level of anxiety. Even though it is probably the safest way to travel, take offs and landings still seem to get me the most. Once in the air, I’m usually OK. On one recent flight, we began to hit pockets of turbulence right after takeoff. The pilot kept the fasten seat belt sign on for an extended period of time due to this. My butt got really tight. The turbulence would start and then stop. Start and then stop. At times, I could feel the turbulence building. A slow gentle rumbling to start, then eclipse into a rolling, tumbling and tossing of the plane. Then it would subside. Other times, it would be sudden and without warning. Then it would stop just as sudden as it started.
I thought about how my grief acts just like this. At times, I’m fine. Then, a smell, a sound, a sight, a touch and it starts. Sometimes, I can feel the build up. Other times, its sudden and it knocks me for a loop. However, and for the most part, it is always lying low, just under the surface waiting for what it considers to be the most opportune (or inopportune) time.
Some people describe this as living in The Fog (of Grief). Its the ever-present feel of heaviness, loneliness and sorrow that weighs the grieving person down. It follows them all around wherever they go. Its there as you wake up. There when you go to sleep. There when you go out to the store, or to church. Whenever you go to visit friends or family, its there. It feels like that fog is made just for you and follows you, slowing you down, obstructing your view, keeping you subdued and sequestered to a perpetual level of sadness and disembodiment.
As time goes on though, that fog, that turbulence of grief can (and will) begin to lift and ease up. The grief will not consume your whole day. Just as the sun begins to peek through as the fog thins out, so does happier times. So does joy. Grief begins to tire of its hold on you, and that fog will slowly, slowly dissipate.
In ways, I can feel the fog lifting in my life. Nowadays, I can wake up with a sense of purpose and get through a twenty four hour period without shedding a tear. I can keep a schedule (pretty much) in order to be productive throughout my day. I’ve been able to tackle what were once hard tasks, like cleaning out the garage – very . . . Slowly.
As the fog lifts, thinking becomes clearer. They say, it is best not to make any major decisions until at least a year has passed, and this is for obvious reasons. Deciding to move or not has been a major part of my mental consumption. One day, I’m ready to pack it all up and go somewhere else and start over. Other days, I want to stick around, at least for a little while.
As this fog lifts, my ability to see ahead of me, the future, gets better. This has been a very hard season of life. This “storm” definitely rocked my boat, almost taking me under.
But God . . .
He gave me strength
He gives me strength.
He guided my path.
He’s guides my path.
He comforted me.
He comforts me.
He held me up.
He holds me up.
These next two months are going to be especially challenging. Filled with holidays, shorter days, and what would have been our thirtieth wedding anniversary, the fog may become thickest before there is a clearing. All of these “notable firsts” as I call them. Navigating my way, and my family’s way through them may prove a bit challenging. Sometimes I think, or wish, I could just go to sleep and wake up mid January 2026. However, I know that’s not possible. So, this will be my next Psalm 23 episode.
As the fog lifts, I can see the dawn of a new day. The bright and shining sun of a new season in my life. I don’t want to forget the past. For there were some good times and a lot of lessons learned. However, through faith, I know my future is bright.
I’m pretty sure the turbulence is still gonna come. It may creep in, or it may hit me, blindside me like a huge gale force wind.
As the saying and the song goes . . .
“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know WHO holds the future.”