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At Mass this weekend, I prayed for understanding and compassion. For two days, I stewed over a hurtful comment. I know we've all been subjected to 'the things people say.' What was different about these words were that they were intentional and spoken with bitterness. In more than three and a half years, this was the first time anyone has said something to me that stung.
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A few weeks ago, I had lunch with a dear friend. We have much in common, including our young grandchildren. Although her grands are all boys and mine are mostly girls, except for the Basher, our love of being grandmothers is much the same. Our lives are filled with joy at their accomplishments. We hurt when they get a boo-boo. Love abounds.
That day, over a sandwich and piece of pie, my friend reminded me of grandparents who face a different type of loss than those of us whose grandchildren have died– the loss of any chance to spend time with their grandkids. Being a bereaved grandparent takes us on a complicated grief journey. We not only have to work through our own grief, but also that of our child. In order to be successfully supportive of our children, we need to be understanding of and empathetic to the enormity of their loss and pain. But our hurt is also deep and we should be caring for ourselves, too.
How do we manage that? For 27 years, Patty and Jerry Wetterling held on to hope. They never gave up on the hope that their son, Jacob, would come home. Hope sustained them and kept them moving forward, kept them vigilantly working to protect children around the globe. May God watch over and bless the Wetterlings as they begin their extremely painful and endless grief journey. May hope once again find a place in their hearts.
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