MamaArcher's Blog

Grace in Times of Grief

I do not have a close relationship with my father.  I never have.  My parents divorced when I was only a year old.  I can probably count on one hand how many visits with my father I remember in my lifetime.  Each of those visits was so very special to me.  I longed for my father.  I often had visiting times with my grandmother.  Those were some of the dearest times to me in my childhood.  My step-mother would come and see me with my brother almost every time I came to visit my grandmother.  My father, however, was rarely there.  I am not going to get into the whole sticky mess of why that was.  The point here is that I really knew my step-mother more than my father.  She always made a point to tell me that my father loved me and that she was so glad to see me.  The fact that I was not even her daughter but she treated me as if I was meant a lot me.  She loved me and I loved her.

The summer before last we made our first visit to my father’s house.  My grandmother had died a few months before and I was very grieved to have not seen her before her passing, it had been almost 11 years since seeing her.   The visit was an important one to make.  Having gone so long without seeing my grandmother and then having her die gave me a more accurate assessment of how much time had passed since I had been back to that neck of the woods.  My husband and children had never even met my father.  I had not seen him since I was sixteen.  So we went for a visit.  It was a strange visit as you can imagine.  I am so glad that we went though.

This past week was a hard one.  Not only was my entire family down with the flu but I received a letter I had not desired to receive.  It was a package from my father.  In the big envelope was another envelope along with a letter.  I had recently sent new photos of the children and he now had my new address.  I had just assumed that if they sent anything to me, which I did not anticipate , it would be forwarded to our new address.  One thing the letter said was that he was sorry about just sending the envelope but he couldn’t bring himself to open it again.  This left me looking at the envelope dreading having to open it and see what was inside.  In fact, I think I already knew.

I looked at the envelope to see why I never received it.  The post office did indeed forward the envelope.  There was the forwarding address sticker right on the front.  However, they forwarded it to some address that was not mine.  Apparently, whoever received it sent it back.

I opened the envelope that had been originally sent months and months ago.  As I pulled the contents out of the package and saw the face of my step-mother I began to shake and cry.  It was a funeral announcement and a clipping from the newspaper with her obituary on it.  It was what I had dreaded and thought it would be.  I do not even know how she died.  It doesn’t really matter.  I looked at the dates.  She had died at the end of May.  I found out almost 6 months later due to a mistake at the post office.

After a day or two I began to realize that even though the mistake at the post office and the fact that my father did not have my phone number delaying the news was causing great grief I began to see the grace of God in the whole situation.  I looked at the dates and came to the realization that she died only about a week before my other grandmother had died.  I would have had to deal with fresh grief of both of their deaths at the same time.  I was spared that task.  Even though I wish that I had known earlier I am thankful that the Lord allowed me time in between to rest and heal and the time to grieve for each of them separately.

Even when we do not understand, even if we do not see at first, even in the midst of bad circumstances, God is gracious and not always in the ways we expect.  For that, I am thankful.  I am thankful for my step-mother, that God brought her into my life, and that even though there is the pain of delay, I am thankful to be able to grieve for her.  I am thankful I did not have to grieve for her at the same time I was grieving for my grandmother.  The pain would have been too great.  God is my comfort and my strength, He grants grace in times of grief.