Every day it happens; folks lose loved ones unexpectedly. But until you’ve experienced it, the reality doesn’t impact you as deeply. If anything, the daily news only makes us more desensitized to it. But last Monday it happened to my family. My beautiful sister-in-law, my brother’s wife, suddenly passed away after complications that unexpectedly arose from surgery. The only word that I can think to describe the state we have been in is shock. True, clinical shock. The feelings of grief haven’t even really set in yet because we cannot wrap our heads around the new reality we now find ourselves living. She’s gone and we didn’t even get to say goodbye. One so young, so vibrant and full of life.

We find ourselves facing Christmas without a beloved family member, and our hearts could not be more broken. The past few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. I go from staring off into the void to shedding tears at the drop of a hat. You’d think as a writer, I’d be able to work through my emotions by writing about them, but up to this point, the words would not come. I just didn’t have the heart to write them.

While the world is gearing up for the most festive season of the year, I felt numb and dull. Then last night my daughter’s troop had their Christmas party. A few months ago, I was appointed as the Christmas Parade Float Decorator, and sadly, due to weather, the parade had been cancelled. We decided the decorations intended for the float could be repurposed for the party, but that was before our tragic loss. I now faced a dilemma. Do I go to the party or stay at home? With no one else available to bring the supplies, I decided to go. I am so glad I did.

The theme was Narnia, and a special wardrobe had been acquired. My daughter and I set it up so that all the kids could pass through the wardrobe to get to the party. I had no idea how this was going to go. I thought most of kids would walk around it in order to avoid ducking through the wardrobe, but I was completely mistaken. They loved it. I watched in awe as the kids went through with wonder in their eyes. Many even went back through because they wanted to experience reaching the magical land of Narnia again! Then there was the snow machine, which also had been intended for the float. I set it up outside the entrance and watched as the kids played and danced with delight while the “snow” fell around them.

In those precious moments the wall of pain encasing my heart was finally pierced through.  I felt joy again. I smiled a genuine smile. I cried happy tears. I learned a valuable lesson. An important part of the grieving process is to cherish the good moments when they come. It is how you begin to heal. In doing so, it does not mean you’ve forsaken the memory of those that have passed but rather honor them by not taking the good moments for granted.

The grief I feel is still very real and raw, and there are many tears yet to come. The loss will always be there, even though time may dull it, but I know now that the healing process has begun. Finding joy in the midst of tragedy allowed me to feel again, to recover from the initial shock of it all so I can truly begin to grieve.