I met with someone for lunch a few weeks back whom I’d never met before – something I seem to be doing a lot more of lately, come to think of it. We had gotten connected through someone I met on Facebook who suggested to this other gal that she try to get in touch with me. Prior to our lunch, she had read a few of my blog posts and so knew a bit of my story already. But when we got into details and I was ticking off the timeline of events, she stopped me and said, “Wait, this is recent. You just got divorced?” “Yep, pretty much.” “After seeing all you’re doing, I thought your divorce was years ago…”
That was sweet to hear, and if I seem to be doing alright, it’s purely Jesus (trust me, I’m not the hero of my story), and there are days when I can’t believe how fresh all this still really is when I feel so completely settled into this life of mine, as if it’s been my life for ages.
But then I hit a patch like I’m currently hitting and I’ve cried probably four times in the past two days. I just sat through my final Bible study small group at my old church, knowing that in the fall, I really need to connect deeper into my new church community. It’s time for me to move on. And so I’m grieving.
And we are finally refinancing one of our properties and though I’d just been looking at it like this legal and financial thing up to this point, it occurred to me that that home housed some of our sweetest memories, one of our most peaceful stretches of marriage, or so I thought. And I’ve been awash with memories that remind me that though it was hard and that though, sadly, there was more bad than good, it wasn’t all horrible and I can look back and remember good things. and so I’m remembering and crying, and therefore I’m grieving.
Grieving as in holding back tears while walking through the grocery store. Or crying in the shower. Or in my car. Or on a bike ride.
My grief has come in shifts and layers and waves. Just when I think I’ve got a handle on something, I watch a movie that points out something I’m missing. Just when I think I’m enjoying a nice stroll with my dog, I realize I’m the only non-couple walking down the street. Just when I feel I’ve accomplished something by making blueberry crisp for the first time, my stove breaks. And I cry. I watch a movie and cry. I walk down the street and let the tears fall. I sit in my house and I let it out.
Because it’s all okay. Because it all just takes time. Because yesterday I was full of unexplainable joy but last night I was sobbing in the bathtub and later today I’ll probably be just fine again. The grieving still comes, and I’m guessing it’s not over, and I’m going to be fine, and so will you, because it’s all part of life, all part of the healing. And Jesus is here with me, so that totally helps.