Rocking in Grief

 Grief is truly an odd beast. 

I can go weeks without thinking about the reality that I will never see my mom again this side of heaven. And then there are times when something unexpected sets off a bought of grief, and this time it was something that I didn't think would be so hard.

I have worn her jewelry without feeling the loss so deeply, but seeing the two chairs that had been a staple in whatever living room she had through most of my young adult life has been so much more difficult than wearing the necklace that we had engraved with the name that Moya gave her when she was a toddler learning to speak. Mom wanted to be called "Grandmary" but that sweet little voice made out "Gray-Gray" and Gray-Gray she remained for several years after Moya learned how to speak more words. It just stuck.

But those chairs.

Now that I'm no longer in the corporate workforce, I have noticed that I have more room in my brain to process things that I don't have the answer to. In the case of these chairs, I learned that the reason that I had those chairs is because mom was not there to sit in them anymore. And along with this were all the people that would come into her living room to visit and have coffee or a glass of wine. Those people aren't there anymore either. And the living room that the chairs came from is no longer her living room, because she isn't here anymore.

I can picture her sitting in the rocking chair with a blanket and a cup of coffee, reading one of her daily devotionals. The devotionals that stayed in a basket at the foot of the chair, the chair that is now in my garage because my mom doesn't live on earth anymore.

It sounds like a sad version of the old song "This is the House that Jack Built". The following things are like a rocking chair for me:

Grief: 

Grief really is like a rocking chair for me. I can rock back out of it and then back in it faster than I anticipated. Eventually that rocking chair will be in my living room, taking the place of a blue wingback chair that I have no emotional attachment to. She didn't get to rock both my children in that chair, but I certainly will. 

The Psalms:

 David is spouting the goodness and the wonders of God in one chapter and the next he is begging God to tell him when He will remember him, because truly God has forgotten about him.

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?"- Psalm 13:1-2    

My Relationship with God:

 It tends to rock into a sweet intimacy and peace with him, and rock right out of it when life hits hard and He feels so far away. 

It is as if the movement of the chair represents living in a sinful world, but the overall piece of furniture represents God: Sturdy, solid, timeless and comforting.