5 of 15

Write now Article Tools

Nobody wants to grieve - even if it results in a growth experience. And at first glance, the phrase, "growing through grief," would seem to be something of an oxymoron. But I believe we CAN grow through grief, if we are open to the possibilities and trust in God to lead us. On October 9, 1999, I was napping in the afternoon, when my mother phoned from a hospital in a nearby city. My dad, who had been seriously ill for nearly 2 years, had undergone surgery the day before. "Your daddy can't feel his legs," my mother whispered into the phone. "Do you want me to come?" I asked. The answer was yes. My husband and I hurried to dress and travel the 65 miles to the hospital. The last two years had been an emotional roller coaster. My younger brother had fought liver failure for several years, and he died in September 1998 at the age of 37, surrounded by my parents, my sister, his Hospice nurse, and me. My dad's poor health steadily declined after that, and the surgery had evidently produced a blood clot of some sort that caused a stroke. Now he was paralyzed from the chest downward. His feet were black from lack of blood flow, and the doctor told us that he would have to remove them if things didn't improve quickly.

My Spiritual relationship had taken a major turn during my brother's illness, and I was probably as close to God during those two years as I had ever been in my life. Driving to the hospital to be with my parents, I felt such a calming peace ... and such a presence of the Holy Spirit. My husband and I rushed to the Intensive Care room where my father was being treated, and as a nurse questioned my mother and sister for the umpteenth time, I knelt over my dad and spoke to him.

I will never forget those few minutes. I could hear the nurse asking the same questions that had been asked by a zillion nurses in the last 2 years, and I could hear my mom and sister answering. I could see my husband, standing on the other side of the bed as I talked to my dad. But for me, in that moment, they may as well have all been a million miles away. I knelt over my daddy and told him how much I loved him ... but that as much as I loved him, God loved him so much more. I didn't think about what to say, and at the time, I didn't even know where the words came from, but I assured my dad that God would take care of him ... and us! I knew from his reaction, and his repeated comments to "take care of your momma" that he understood. I was assuring him that, if God was ready for him,

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Growing through grief?
We want to hear your view. Write now!