The first memory hit so fast, so sudden, so unexpected. Grief likes to blindside.
|My new business card - front|
I was cleaning out email this morning and hit a patch of June 2015 that never got tossed after they were read. There was a sale email from Old Navy last summer, advertising their $1 flip-flop sale. I felt physically punched in the gut, tears stung my eyes. Why???
|back of card|
Instantly I was back in the summer of 2011, driving our daughter to the mall before they closed that last Saturday evening of this sale, picking up the next few sizes of summer sandals for each child.
I never even terribly liked to drive. I don't often even miss it much. But I do miss the spontaneity, the freedom, the care-free whim-following ability of taking my daughter's hand, kissing my husband, and knowing that 25-minutes truly is sufficient to accomplish my sudden goal. No planning, coordinating, favor-asking, required!
|Summer 2016, happy new memory. My beautiful girl got to achieve a life-long dream of horse-back riding! :D|
Do I even mention the flip-flop thing? These are so not a shoe option for me anymore. Unless a shoe holds on to my foot, my foot can no longer hold onto a shoe.
That took a little trial and error to figure out and find happy solutions, but really isn't much a factor for grief anymore. It is what it is.
|Most flip-flop like option I can get away with. Still not terribly comfortable nor secure, but at least I don't kick them across the room with each step!|
There have been a few other June 2011 memories that caught me off guard today too, but I'll close with a good reminder Facebook gave me of this date, five years back:
"God's peace doesn't have to make sense - it passes all understanding. So no matter what you're facing today, no matter if circumstances are tough, no matter if life doesn't make sense, may you have a sense of God's beyond-all-understanding peace."
- from my friend Marlo Schalesky