Courage on the Grief Path is Like 'Chutes & Ladders'

It takes an enormous amount of courage to take steps forward along our grief journey.  Some of the difficulties get easier with time and some hurdles we consciously struggle to jump over.  Yet, there are some obstacles that continue to hold us back.

Last week, Mandy called with a list of questions and stories to ask and to tell me.  At the end of her litany, she got to the point - what she really wanted me to know.  She had just taken a giant leap ahead on her grief path and she was proud.  Forty-two months after her baby died, she visited the accident site.

Mandy and her family live on a lake with many bays connected by channels.  Their house is on the farthest west, the last bay of this huge lake.  Where Kitty drowned was in the channel closest to home.  In order to go anywhere on the lake beyond 'their' bay, boating through the channel is unavoidable.

Although he doesn't talk about it, I know that son-in-law has been to the site many times, almost daily through the summer months.  Last August, my step-granddaughter rode the jet-ski with him through the channel and she told me the story of them stopping to say a prayer.  Now I know that he has placed a floral cross at the site.  He created his own personal memorial.  Stopping to pray has become a ritual.  Mandy saw this for the first time last Thursday. 

Her act of courage was like landing on the space at the bottom of the tallest ladder of the kids' game 'Chutes & Ladders'.  She bounded ahead ... not all the way to the top ... not to the end ... but far enough to give her the knowledge that she can and will move on with hope. 

Just a day ago, I started reading a new book.  The introduction talks about courage and how much we need while grieving our grandchildren.  Impeccable timing after listening to Mandy tell me about her trip through the channel to see the memorial. 

It makes me wonder: is it time for me to face one of my biggest obstacles?

When Kitty died, the hospital chaplain took family photos of Mandy, son-in-law and Belle with Kitty.  The images were on my camera.  I have all of them together on an SD card in my jewelry box, but I have not yet looked at those pictures.  All I have to do is go upstairs to get them, but I don't have the courage.  Taking myself back to that day three-and-a-half years ago to see the pain, the sadness, the exhaustion and despair on my child's face is not something I can or want to do ... yet. 

I would like to be brave enough to look at the photos.  My daughter has inspired me to dig deep to find the courage I need.  Reinforcement from the book I've started reading is a timely nudge. 

Perhaps it is time and ... with great hope ... it won't take long for me to land on a space that places me at the bottom of a ladder.