Just like glass.

I know many have been thinking a lot over the last several days about tragedy and the grief that comes after. I am sure you know I am speaking of the helicopter crash in the hills of Los Angeles, that took the life most famously of Kobe Bryant, and his 13 year old daughter Gianna. Nine people in all died in that accident. I can't help but think of Kobe's wife who has lost a daughter, and her husband in the same instant.I somehow didn't realize Kobe had a wife and four daughters.

 My mind also goes to the Altobelli family. Those kids lost their baby sister, and both parents in that accident. They are now young adult orphans, left to pick up the legacy, and pieces of their family, and somehow keep going. They won't have their mom and dad at their most important life events, like their wedding days, or the birth of their first child. Their beloved baby sister will be missing too, she will never get to be a bridesmaid, or an Aunt, or just a best friend to her remaining siblings. I have prayed over the last days as I learned more about the accident. Prayed that all of these people who lost wives, husbands, children, parents, and so on, in this one horrific split second accident would be surrounded by loved ones who will lift them up and carry them until they can see again.

 I myself have been on the receiving end of a call no one ever wants to get. "There has been a horrible accident Kenda, Mom was killed, Mom didn't make it, Mom is dead. Yes I am sure, I have seen her body." I crumbled right there on that sidewalk. My mind and heart racing, my stomach suddenly twisting in despair. It couldn't be, surely this was a mistake, my mom isn't dead, its a beautiful Sunday evening and I just talked to her yesterday. I just sent her a picture of Koralyn this morning in a bow she had sent for her. I had just received a birthday package from her in the mail a day or two before. It is just a normal Sunday, and tomorrow my mom would need to get up and go to the job she loved right? Then sheer panic and dismay, as the words really sunk in. Oh those moments and feelings are so fresh and vivid when I recall them. That horror I felt seems so real, and like it was all just a few minutes ago. A moment like that, the hours and days that come after, can't be erased from human memory. It is trauma. Trauma everyone is afraid of, trauma no one wants to live themselves, but every single day people do. Police knock on doors to tell mother's their babies have been shot to death. Mom's tell children their dads won't ever come home after some horrific accident on the job, or on the road. Mom's walk into the nurseries of their sleeping little ones only to find them blue and without breath in their lungs. Every single day is someones worst day. Someones trauma.

So much trauma happens to us as humans every day. Most goes unreported and unnoticed by the general public. Most people go on thinking that sort of trauma, and death of loved ones, will only ever happen to others, until its them of course. It is human nature and survival to sometimes look away and think to yourself, well that will never happen to me, and list off in your mind all the reasons why, assuring yourself  you are safe. If anything, moments like this when big, powerful, famous people die horrific and untimely deaths,  many realize no one is really safe from the trauma of life, and that death comes for us all eventually. Death is no respecter of persons. Life is just fragile and so are we, our hearts, our bodies, our minds,  all of us just so fragile. We don't like to think upon our fragility often because the world and all it's trauma and grief can be a terrifying thing. It can be a very good thing though, to stop and be reminded of the brevity and fragility of this life on earth. Good because it can help us become more empathetic to other's fears and pain. Good in that it helps us assess our own life's plans and purposes. Good in my opinion, because it points us back to a Creator who made us for so much more then this brief time on this fragile ball we call Earth. 

So the past few days have had me reliving my own trauma of losing my Mom to a tragic, and horrific motorcycle accident on a sunny Sunday afternoon in 2012. It has also had me thinking about grief. My grief, and the grief of others. Thinking a lot about those first trauma and shock filled days and then how grief changes over time. I am nearly 8 years out from that Sunday evening when my safe world in which my Mom was alive was shattered, never to be the same again. I can't believe it has been nearly 8 years. Time is a tricky thing, sometimes a thief, sometimes a friend. I am grateful I am no longer in those first hours, days, or years of grief. Grateful that most days I can breathe and function normally, feeling happiness along the way again.

I was kneeling on the floor the other night, to pick something up I had dropped, and from that vantage point on my knees, I saw a shiny sliver of glass hiding underneath one of the kitchen cabinets. Weeks, maybe even a few months earlier, I had broken a large glass lid.Opened the bottom cabinet and it slipped out onto the hard tile floor where it banged and shattered into many sharp pieces. I had tried of course to clean up every last shard of glass, so no one would get cut or hurt stepping on any. As most know, on a hard tile floor, when glass shatters, its nearly impossible to clean it all up. It tends to shatter, and then scatters all over the room. Often it hides in corners, and crevices, underneath furniture, or appliances. Sometimes it even evades our broom or vacuum, and hides in plain sight, until its found by someone's poor foot, or worse, a child's knees or tiny hands crawling on the floor. I had a sudden thought down there on my knees looking at that shimmering piece of glass. Grief is like glass.

 Grief is like a piece of glass that shatters and then scatters every which way. The piece of  glass whole, is often beautiful and useful. Think of all the things in our world made of glass that bring both function and beauty to every day of our lives. When that glass is broken, it becomes dangerous and often painful. We try to clean it up quickly and avoid the pieces at all costs. This is much like grief. One minute we have these lives and in a split second things change. We go scrambling to clean it up and avoid being cut and hurt. Despite our best efforts that grief that has now shattered our worlds is all over the place. No matter how much we, our friends, family, and even the well meaning, and sometimes irritated, general public try to clean it up, its just everywhere. Shattered and sharp.

Even when we survive those first days, weeks, and months of shattering and subsequent sweeping, grief, much like the shattered glass, is hidden in the crevices and corners of our lives. We find it sometimes in the worst moments when its not convenient or becoming. It is then like the tiny piece of glass you step on and it goes deep into your heel, causing pain and blood. Grief shows up like that unwelcome tiny shard, during a fun outing with a friend, or in a meeting at work, or when you get up to speak at a celebration. Other times we are anticipating the grief, much like when we kneel in our kitchens and know the bright light of day and the vantage point we have will show us the tiny shimmering pieces of glass our brooms and vacuums have missed. It is more welcome then, maybe because we are anticipating and expecting it, maybe because its been months, or even years, and we are ready to face the sharp shards and clean them up. This sometimes looks like the grief we feel on special anniversaries, like birthdays of passed loved ones, or their death days when we take the time to breathe, grieve, and remember. Sometimes it takes heavy, dirty work to find the broken pieces of glass. Moving the stove when it breaks for the last time, or spring cleaning and moving the furniture only to reveal the glass that shattered on the hard tile in the kitchen, made its way even to the living room or the dining room. Dealing with your grief sometimes takes many forms. Counseling, support groups, medications to right the damage done to your brain and body from your trauma and grief. Healing and sweeping up your shattered parts looks so different for each and every grieving person. Working through the deepest grief takes a lot of heavy lifting and uncovering of hidden pieces and hurts, much like those tiny pieces of glass that scattered all the way into other rooms.

 Broken glass can be something as small as one drinking glass. It can be huge amounts too, like all the windows in your house after a bad hail storm, or the windshield of your car after an accident. Grief is much the same, it can be small to some, the loss of a pet, or a beloved item that has been passed down for generations. Grief can also be huge, like the loss of your health, and ability to take care of yourself. It can be the loss of a parent, spouse, or child. Just like with glass though, when the bottom drops, there is always a shattering that takes place, large or small. It isn't our job to determine the size or worthiness of the broken glass or the grief. It is our job as friends, and loved ones, to help pick up the broken pieces, to help shine the light and sweep up the mess. Sometimes the glass can be repaired, sometimes we have to sweep up and resign ourselves to the fact that we can never bring back what has been broken. Things will never be exactly the same, they aren't supposed to be, that is they way of life and growth.

Every single day lives change. Every day tragedies occur. Grief is like shattered glass, what was once beautiful, and useful has become broken, sharp, and scary. In time, things will become more normal again. It won't always be like those first moments after the glass gets shattered, with all the panic and scrambling to sweep up all the pieces. One day the grief will be like the long ago shattered glass, mostly cleaned up. You will be living life again, it won't look the same as it did before it shattered, but you will realize you are no longer walking around terrified of slicing your feet on the slivers and shards.

I bet we all know someone who is grieving something. Grieving people need others to see all the big, and small broken pieces. Sometimes in their deep grief, in those first shocking days and weeks, they need you to come into the middle of their brokenness and just be with them. Acknowledge the shattered pieces and stand with them in the middle of the mess. They need you to come right into the place so many don't want to go because they would be surrounded by brokenness.Surrounded by shattered things with sharp and painful edges. Other times those who grieve may need you long after the initial shattering to come and kneel, to shine your light, and help them discover all the forgotten tiny pieces they missed in those early days, those early sweepings.

Yes grief is much like shattered glass. Broken and scary, sharp, and yet beautiful if we can shine the light at the right angles. Clean up and healing takes time, so much time, so much patience, and intention. Do you have sweeping of shattered glass to do in your own life? Do you know a friend who needs a good standing, kneeling, or sweeping buddy? Let us all remember our own times of shattering, and be eager to help, and most of all, to truly love the grieving and shattered. Next time we see someone standing in the middle of their own shattered pile, let us not be afraid of getting cut by the sharp scary edges. Let us carefully walk into the middle of the brokenness, and let our friends, and loved ones know they are not alone and that we aren't afraid of the sharp edges and broken pieces. Let us all be mindful of the fragility of things and that all around us, each day, there is shattered glass.