There is No Time Limit for Grief

MY Santa…my very special friend, Greg (Photo Credit: Leslie Coppedge Fore)

This is the tenth Christmas since Mr. Virgo died. So much has happened since that first Christmas without him. I’ve sold my house and gotten rid of 95% of my personal belongings. I’ve lived a nomadic lifestyle in my camper. I’ve moved across the country. I settled on the family farm…the home of my heart. I’ve become closer to Jesus. And…I found love again in the form of a kind and gentle man who makes room in his life for me and all my baggage. 

I can still remember how that first Christmas felt without him. I remember the desolation. The kicked in the gut feeling I had every time I remembered he was really gone. I remember every single thing about the day I sat by Santa and cried. I remember how he placed his hand gently on my shoulder and whispered comforting words to me. He and I are still friends and always will be. 

Every year, I am asked to repost that story at Christmas. I knew instinctively when I started this journey there would be others coming up behind me. I knew part of my healing would come in offering my hand and heart to those who feel the wretched pain of loss every day, but most acutely at the holidays. I knew I would never be the same…forever affected by a circumstance I never dreamed would be so painful. So, if I am feeling that pain…others are bound to be as well. 

Mr. Virgo’s last Christmas…2012. It was his first Christmas Day off in 40 years!

What more can we offer to our fellow grievers than to sit quietly beside them and acknowledge their pain? I’ve written millions of words since that first Christmas, yet I’m still left at a loss as to what to say to another that would be the most helpful…the most kind…the most compassionate. So I say…

“My heart is with you, dear one.”

Always.

❤️‍?

“Blessed are the humble, for they will inherit the earth.”

Matthew 5:5 CSB