When I wrote this piece the month of May had finally sprouted. Winter had pulled up stakes and left town. Now was the time to bask in spring’s full glory. It was warm enough to enjoy walking in a nearby park. It is usually quiet when I stroll the meandering trails, but I just remembered that today is Memorial Day, and the park is crowded. The picnic shelters were full of folks enjoying hot dogs on the grill. Several kids whizzed by me on scooters as they raced to the bottom of the hill. Hopefully, they’ll apply their brakes before the pond stops them. A cute little guy brought up the rear. He paused and eyed me carefully before pushing off to catch up with his playmates. Runners were huffing and puffing past, leaving me “in the dust.” The sky was a perfect shade of blue. There was so little breeze that a young girl ran full speed, trying to keep her kite aloft. Later, players will haul their gear from vehicles to the diamond for a baseball game. The cheerful noise from spectators will drift into my open windows. Today the park is full of happy sounds from people loving life and enjoying each other on Memorial Day, but it’s also sad for others.
Instead of joining me for a walk, my hubby and son hit the links to play a round of golf. My boys grew up on the game and enjoyed many rounds with their dad who taught them the finer points of their favorite sport. As they caught on they challenged each other, honing their skills until beating Dad was within reach. Happy memories suddenly triggered the waterworks. Tears flowed unchecked down my cheeks as I thought about my firstborn who couldn’t join his dad and brother today. He would be if suicide had not claimed him some years ago.
Triggers naturally follow our tragic losses. Grief is not as linear as it is circular; it’s like a Ferris wheel that never stops. As it circles round and round, triggers catch us at unexpected moments as we have all likely experienced.
After I returned from my walk, I watched a news clip that showed the US President laying a wreath at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. A bugler played Taps, a mournful tune of just 24 notes. Again, triggers. Tears fill my eyes just thinking about the many who have lost loved ones on the battlefield. If someone you loved died while serving our country, today is a special day with lots of triggers, and my heart goes out to all of us as we remember. We are thankful for the sacrifice of each one to keep us free.
We often talk about triggers. It doesn’t have to be a holiday. Any ordinary day will do. Occasionally I hear a voice that sounds like my son’s, and I feel a stab of pain in my heart. One day while walking in a store crowded with shoppers, I saw a young man walking in my direction. He was far enough away that his features weren’t clear. At first glance, he looked like my son, and my heart skipped a beat before a stab of pain hit it. Reminders of our children and other loved ones we’ve lost are everywhere. The heart feels it all. It can’t help it. That’s just the way we’re wired.
If you are on a grief journey you know what I’m talking about. I was on my Trail of Tears for years before I could control the instant response to triggers. They always reduced me to puddles, but I don’t regret the tears. They washed away the lump of pain that builds pressure in my midsection. It was months after my son died before I realized that my lumps and tears worked hand in hand and needed release. Once I succumbed to tears, the lump dissolved until the next time. I have learned to accept the lumps. They are evidence that it’s time for a good cry. My body hints, “You know you need to, so just do it.” Does your grief give you hints, too?
No matter how long we’ve been on our grief journeys, triggers come. I know that all holidays are extra hard. We miss those who were always within our circle of love. Now, precious ones are missing when we gather to make more memories. The spaces our children once occupied remain empty. Our hearts ache as we remember how wonderful it was before our family circle was broken by tragic loss.
“Grief brims itself and flows away in tears.” Ovid
Perhaps this Memorial Day we are ready to remember the good times. If not, that’s okay, too. Grief cannot be rushed. It flows where it will on holidays and every other day. Today I may not feel like celebrating. Instead, I choose to be at peace.
I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.
Verse shared from New Living Translation (NLT)
Hope after Suicide 