When Grief Comes as a Surprise

Just when you think things are lining up, it happens. You have cried your tears, you have come to peace with what the current situation is, and it happens. Something pushes buttons you don’t even know you have.

This morning, this was me. I was enjoying my morning coffee with a little whole milk and sugar, finishing up my sermon for church, when I got a series of texts from my son. He is in North Carolina, stationed at Fort Bragg. His girlfriend moved to nearby Raleigh post-graduation and is working there. They get to have their weekends together. And this weekend was special. They went away to hike in the Blue Ridge Mountains and enjoy some “little mountain” views, as he puts it. I love that kid.

The texts were pictures-pictures of them on the mountaintop at sunrise, a picture of them together, and one of her left hand. And…you guessed it! There was a ring on it; a gorgeous, yet simple, engagement ring.

One and one-half years ago, before he went off to Fort Benning, GA, the girls and I went ring shopping with him. We drove to a jeweler in a neighboring city (who I know) so he could draw up plans for the ring. It was so exciting for us all. The girls all had questions about the clarity and size of the diamond, the color of the gold, and the setting. My son knew what he wanted. They drew it up together and we left. Then he went off to the Army.

We are in love with his girlfriend and have no qualms about them being together. We would adopt her even if he didn’t marry her, you know? They have spent the past almost three years getting to know each other, mostly long-distance.

They met because my son trusted me. He didn’t blow me off when I came home from facilitating a retreat in the Rockies and told him I knew where he could clear his head. I had learned about a gap year program at the YMCA of the Rockies and just knew he needed that experience. His first year at Purdue University had not gone as well as he would have liked and his second witnessed him in a free fall. It was time for a break. He and I had talked about his options and this was clearly where I felt he was being led.

He applied and went to work. She was just out of high school and doing the program with a Catholic church group. Near the halfway mark, they met. They were forbidden to “date” during the duration of their time there, but they played, hiked, enjoyed each other, and made many good friends.

Side note: My son converted to Catholicism a year and a half after he came home. His exposure while he was there, to several of the Franciscans who came to visit, left a deep impression on him.

Here we are, one and one-half years after he left. The girls and I took the ring to him after he moved to Fort Bragg. It has been in his hand for almost an entire year. And now, it is on hers.

These past three years have been a living hell for me in many ways…and for my kids. The divorce was so ugly it permeated every part of our lives and has changed almost everything except how much we love each other. We have never been closer. We are still a family despite it all. We have learned to come together and enjoy each other like never before.

So when the texts arrived in my phone this morning, the first feelings I had were of relief and pure joy. But then…out of nowhere, I began to cry. And I couldn’t stop. I walked upstairs to the bathroom where my body just began to convulse and sob. I quickly put on my clothes, my flip-flops, grabbed some tissues, and went on a walk.

I walked to the park, climbed up on a big rock, kicked off my shoes, and hugged my knees. I called my sister-in-law and tried to sort out my tears.

This is why I was sobbing: As happy as I was, I felt terror. I felt the grief of the loss of decades of my life to a man who never really loved me. I felt the uncertainty of that kind of partnership and how volatile they can become…even if they start out well (which mine did not). It was more than I knew how to contain. Yes, I know I feel things deeply. I didn’t ask to be like this.

Thankfully, my sister knows me well enough to reassure me that yes, they know each other far better than I knew my spouse when we married. They had spent time together, in close vicinity and far away from each other. They had struggled with their own issues and struggled together. They had traveled together and both loved their families deeply. And their families loved them as well. They are adults. They are far older than I was when I got married. They have a far better sense of who they are and what they are doing with their lives…at least they are further down the path than I was…and have gotten to this day, as a matter of fact.

I forgot to trust them. As much as I love them, my body forgot that I do not know where they are. I may have never loved or been loved like they love each other right now. And it’s not because I haven’t tried. I hope I have. But nothing I have experienced has endured the test of time…not even my 28 year marriage. It didn’t endure well at all. Time passed. That’s all.

So, grief came to stay for a little while again, uninvited and unwelcome. But, hopefully, the tears purged some of the fear I know all too well.

The deepest of blessings I give to my son and his future bride. My fullest and brightest of love and intention I give as my first gifts to them. They are forever part of my heart and soul. May they find the love in each other that I hardly dare to dream of for myself. I pray that seeing them happy and together will be enough.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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