My husband was the master of the off the cuff-comment and quick comeback. For almost 22 years of marriage, all I tried to do was keep up. And since his death from cancer in April, all I've tried to do is keep it up.
The truth is, being a mom hasn't removed the part of me that was also a daughter, and sometimes Mother's Day is just a painful reminder of her absence. So what can one do to make Mother's Day less painful and a lot more joyful?
Diseases and conditions that once proved quickly fatal no longer are. Instead, individuals and their families are increasingly likely to find themselves mired in a protracted process that only begins with a diagnosis.
This new grief is different. For one thing, it includes the loved one with the diagnosis. It also draws in the entire family into a prolonged crisis that some of our interviewees aptly described as "learning to live with death."
The unsaid truth about grief is it never dies. Yes, the shock eventually subsides, and, sooner or later, each day gets easier to face. But part of me left with Brent, and it is a part of me that can never be found.
What we call "the new grief" begins when a family member learns that he or she has a terminal or potentially terminal illness. Receiving that kind of diagnosis confronts families with a distinct type of crisis.
All of us have vocational moments or experiences in our lives that God uses to reveal our passion and purpose in life. For me, these vocational moments evolve into a deeper calling to ordained ministry.