Grief Archives - Page 3 of 4

December 5, 2018 by Kristina Lunde 1 Comment

The Hole at Our Christmas Table

Photo of Christmas tree & Bible — Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

The hole at our Christmas table
Is an unwanted change this year.
We continue on after the death
Of our beloved son, so dear.

Fa la la la la
The season marches on
While everyone is celebrating,
We hurt because he’s gone.

‘Tis a Christmas, oh not so merry,
Since the death has gripped us so.
We trudge along in painful grief,
In shadows of our mournful woe.

We have not turned against our God;
Our Savior’s birth we do not question.
But the little energy we now have,
Makes it tough to host a celebration.

Some days we merely make it through
In this oppressive pain of mourning,
But more persistent than this grief
Is God’s deep comfort ongoing.

We trust the eternal creator God
Despite the death of our beloved one,
Who now lives in a place prepared
By Jesus, God’s own precious son.

Instead of dreading the holly, jolly
Of the world’s celebration this season,
We choose to keep our focus narrowed
On the birth of Jesus as our reason.

Now our loved one is in heaven,
Living in God’s eternal peace.
We pray for God’s gift of refreshment
And recall of cherished memories.

The memories, although treasures,
Are sometimes bittersweet and sad
As we change our focus from the death
To the blessings of the son we had.

This year our Christmas table
Will obviously have a hole.
But may our hearts and souls be filled,
By our Lord Immanuel.

[To Tami, in memory of your son Nick, as you miss him this Christmas and always.]

June 30, 2017 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Mary’s Legacy: A Poured-out Bucket List

A bucket list is described as what you want or need to accomplish before dying. Mary’s bucket list was not about vacations to take, adventures to try, challenges to master, or objects to obtain before she left this world. Mary did not pursue activities, spend money, or purchase things on her own behalf. No, Mary’s was a poured-out bucket list that demonstrated her servant’s heart and other-focused lifestyle.

Mary’s serene spirit, gentle heart, and firm faith did not waver when the cancer attacked. In facing her death, she continued to live as she always had. At Mary’s memorial service, they read Proverbs 31, because Mary was that kind of wife and mother. A comparison was made to Mary of the Bible, Jesus’ mother, who also lived with a gentle spirit in obedience to Jesus Christ. Mary’s eulogy, written by her husband and children, was passionately presented by her sister in law. They described the focus of Mary’s bucket list: her family and friends. Mary’s bucket list was never about Mary.

In her last months of life, Mary coordinated family weekends, activities with friends, and time savored with loved ones. Mary gave them shared memories as treasures to be remembered.

Ever practical, Mary bought her husband t-shirts and socks—many years’ worth. Mary knew that he would need them and she wanted to take care of him.

Mary encouraged her husband and son to go on their long-planned fishing trip, telling them to have fun together. In doing so, Mary assured them that they would continue to enjoy time together after she was gone.

Mary and her husband had previously shopped for a new truck for him but, in the course of cancer and uncertainty in their lives, purchasing a new vehicle was postponed. Shortly before she died, Mary ordered the new truck as a surprise gift for the whole family. They had to carry her out to the truck for her last ride.

Mary served others, brought family together, and enriched lives by what she said, did, and shared in the last days of her life. Mary poured her energy outward and spent time with others—not an inner-focused, self-gratifying bucket list. In her preparation for death, she pursued the same priorities she lived by: giving, serving, and loving others. Mary’s legacy prioritized family and loved ones: she shared her love even as she lived on the edge of death.

May Mary’s legacy inspire all of us to pour ourselves out for others.

April 17, 2017 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Grief Support: A Letter to Grieving Children

[Note: this grief letter was sent to the siblings of a child who died suddenly.]

You do not know me, but I am praying that God will be with you when you get sad and miss your brother. (Those feelings of sadness and loss are called grief.) I wanted to send you some things so that you and your family could write, draw, and remember your brother by making a memory book.

When someone you love dies, you often think of them. I am sure you miss playing with your brother and hearing his voice. My two children were 6 and 8 years old when their daddy, who was my husband, died. One of their favorite parts of the Bible, that helped them feel better, was John 14:1-4:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”

Those were Jesus’ words to His disciples, or helpers, before He died. Jesus died, but He did not stay dead. He rose, or came alive again, and went to heaven to be with God, His Father. That is the same place—heaven or eternal life—that we will go to if we believe in Jesus, like the Bible tells us in John 3:16:

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

When someone dies, we do not see them anymore. But if they know Jesus, we can be sure that they are in heaven. My kids liked to think that their daddy was working with Jesus, building the house in heaven, and getting it ready for when we go to heaven later. Maybe that is a picture you can have in your mind to help you. What would your brother like to do in a big house with Jesus?

Another way to think of heaven is when birds fly south for the winter. We stay here and freeze in the winter, but the birds are alive and enjoying the warm weather somewhere where we cannot see them. That might be another idea of how you can think of your brother: alive with Jesus and having fun, even though you cannot see him.

May God comfort you and help you to understand more about Jesus, even though your family misses your brother so much.

[Note: If you have experienced the death of a loved one, check out GriefShare to sign up for daily emails of comfort and encouragement or to find a local GriefShare group.]

November 19, 2016 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Letter to a New Widower

Dear B___,

Thinking about you today and praying that God will be with you every step of this new journey through grief as a widower. I pray that God will be with you in all the tough realities you face today:

Waking up to an empty room with the big hospital bed gone. A painful routine it has been, with that big hospital bed and the adjustment to E____’s decreasing strength as she stayed in bed longer and longer. But you adjusted, and you worked so hard to keep her spirits up and her body working as she lay in that bed. May God give you the assurance that you did everything possible to help E____.

Your main job is finished. You washed and lifted, carried and helped. You served her with such love and care, offering an intimacy that spoke volumes of love and support as she wrestled emotionally with letting you do things for her. May God let you know that you did His work in amazing ways. Now it is time to rest, grieve, and let God comfort you.

Coming home with to the empty house. Maybe you listened for noises of her breathing—even those snoring respirations would be a comfort right now. There are no more visits from the caring hospice staff. I pray that God will ease the quiet and give you His comforting peace.

Seeing reminders of her everywhere. My prayer is that you see more and more of the precious reminders and less of the hospital accessories that remind you of E____’s illness. May God refresh your sweet memories of E____ as He eases the reminders of her suffering.

Thank you for loving E____ and being such a great husband to her. You were her humor, strength, and caretaker. What an incredible blessing you were to her as she faced the cancer!

Praying for you.

P.S. Check out www.griefshare.org to sign up for daily emails of encouragement and comfort as you grieve.

August 20, 2016 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Frozen in Time: A Widow’s Final Goodbye

1999 Avalanche Disaster

In October of 1999, forty year old mountain climber Alex Lowe and twenty-nine year old expedition cameraman David Bridges died in a Himalayan avalanche. Along with fellow alpinist Conrad Anker, they set out that morning to analyze the south face of Shishapangma, a Tibetan peak. Six other expedition members, farther back from the three scouts in the lead, were spared the sudden, crashing torrent of ice and snow. Seriously wounded and partially buried, Conrad pulled himself out of the avalanche’s aftermath and participated in the desperate, but ultimately futile, two day search for Alex and David.

Back in Montana, Alex’s widow Jenni had only verbal reports, along with her own climber’s instinct and intuition, to confirm her husband’s mortality. No physical proof of a life ended. No lifeless body to authenticate the finality of death. No tangible validation of a life ended and grief begun.

Shock. Explaining to three young children, family, loved ones. Grief. Mourning. All without a body to say goodbye to. Etching, scraping, and climbing through grief and loss to survive. Adjusting to a family that was tragically minus one. Preserving a father’s love and legacy.

Jenni and her boys were later joined by new husband and stepfather Conrad Anker. Bound by the pain of Alex’s loss, they built a new family together over the months, years, and decade-plus that passed.

2016 Mournful Recovery

Sixteen years later, in April of 2016, came the chance for a final goodbye in the flesh, after Alex’s and David’s bodies were found on the mountain.

Bodies preserved, long after lives were lost to a frigid end. Lives claimed by the mountain, now brought to the surface by glacial melt. A potential grief ambush of torrential proportions revealed by the sun’s light. The emotional trauma of facing the proof of a life vanished, the irrefutable evidence of widowhood, and the harsh reality of all that was lost.

Ice melted. Grief revisited. Goodbyes offered. Mourning renewed. Time to review, admire, and remember both Alex’s and David’s lives. An opportunity to mentally journey back and reflect honor on husband, father, friend, and climber.

Widow to Widow

Dear Jenni Lowe-Anker,
May God give you His strength and comfort as you face this mountain. May the melting ice give way to precious memories, love remembered, and a husband honored. May your grief be less about ambush and more about resolution. I pray that this reviewal will refresh your family’s precious memories of Alex. May the light of God’s son bring peace and closure, rest and nostalgia, hope and renewal. I pray that your widow’s heart not be torn, but instead that your love for Alex will be celebrated and commemorated, even as you continue on with the love of the second half of your life.

Prayers for God’s blessings on you and your family.
Kristina Lunde, a fellow pilgrim on the journey through grief