Grief is a funny emotion. It's funny in its complexity and its fluidity.
Grief is complex and fluid because it never goes away. When you're grieving and someone tells you that "it gets easier," the "it" they're referring to is life moving on. Day by day it gets a little easier to continue on in life without that person. However, grief itself never gets easier. It ebbs and flows, but it is always there.
Grief can hit you in the happiest of times because joy is a vulnerable emotion. If you've ever lost a loved one, you know that you can experience one of your happiest moments (like your boyfriend proposing) and feel exuberant joy, and within seconds there is a part of you that is sad and lonely.
The vulnerability of joy is why I'm writing this post about grief. Brian proposed just over two weeks ago. As we celebrated with each other and with our friends and family, I couldn't help but think that parts of me were missing- my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa. But grief turned it's ugly head and I pushed those emotions to the side to continue on with the celebrations.
It wasn't until Saturday when we looked at a venue and the manager kept mentioning the things my dad would do that I realized a part of me wasn't OK. "When your dad sees you in your dress..." "When your dad walks you down the aisle..." "When you do the father/daughter dance..."
Over the last 20 years I've grown accustomed to people assuming my dad is alive and well, and I can typically brush those comments to the side. I know this person only had the best of intentions as they made those comments, but it immediately turned me off to having my wedding there. I didn't realize it until later that evening when talking about why I wasn't so sure about that venue that I put two and two together.
The truth is, I accepted long ago that my dad wouldn't be able to do those things, but I thought my grandpa would. He was alive for my sisters' weddings, and I always assumed he'd be around for mine. I assumed he'd be the one to walk me down the aisle alongside my mom; I assumed he'd do the father daughter dance with me. And because grief is fluid, it swallowed up grieving the both of them and resulted in anger, frustration, and disappointment.
As I sit and try to think of ways to honor those I've lost on my wedding day, it just barely begins to fill the void. Even honoring them is a reminder of their absence.
Almost every married couple tells me and Brian to relax and enjoy this season because it's such a sweet season. As much as I want to do those things (and I will do those things), it's also a hard season because it's a constant reminder of three people I don't have with me.
I find myself not wanting to think about other venues because I don't want to deal with the assumptions. But I will deal with them. I will smile and nod my head as if my dad will be there to see me in my dress, walk me down the aisle, and dance with me because it's just easier that way.
I know the answer most people want to give is that my dad, grandma, and grandpa will be there with me in spirit, and believe me I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier.
I don't know what this season of engagement hold for me and Brian. I am excited for us. I am excited to start my life with someone who loves me so well. But at the same time, it's all just very bittersweet. If you're in a grieving season, just know that you're not alone.
Smile, God loves you!
