Sitting in the drive-thru at the coffee shop, a guy with brown hair and a blue plaid button-up, like one of Josh's, walked behind my car into the entrance. I instinctively turned around. I couldn't help it. Josh? My mind questioned, "Was that him?" My mind knows the answer, yet I still reflexively do a double-take anyway.
I have heard about this happening, even experienced before, but this was the first time that I looked for my spouse. The moment launched me into a new angle of grief to start the day. I won't see Josh wear that shirt again or enter that coffee shop. One of my favorite memories was meeting him for coffee at this same place or swinging by to pick up a drink he had preordered for me – my very own personal drive-thru service.
When missing someone, it's a million little things that equal the big loss. It's a million little pieces that trigger the heartache. This morning's surprise had me feeling sad for few minutes but moments later, I was laughing because a song came on by an artist we had renamed "Snuffleupagus," because I never could say his name right. Josh even made me a CD several years ago and labeled it, "The Snuffleupagus CD." The memory lightened my heart as I laughed and continued on with the day.
Each day is different. Each moment or memory could easily lead to smiles, laughter or tears. It seems grief often makes me feel "crazy" with the shifting sea of thoughts and feelings. The journey triggers both good memories and sad ones. No matter how I am feeling though, there is thread of thankfulness that links these memories. I am thankful for the many moments we shared together - even if these same memories today, bring a mixed bag of emotional outcomes.
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.