Permission To Grieve

The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

JUDY KNEW HER MOM was finally free from pain. The moment Grace’s heart had stopped beating on this earth, her spirit had soared into the arms of her Savior. Judy also knew that she would see her mother again one day. And yet the pain she felt as the hospice nurse said, “She’s gone,” made it hard for her to breathe.

Judy reached down and stroked her black Lab’s blocky head. Ever the devoted companion, the nine-year-old dog, Samson, hadn’t left her side all morning. He had rarely left her mother’s bedroom the past few days.

The three of them had been living together since Judy’s father had died several years earlier. Judy was the youngest of four children and Grace’s only daughter. The two had always been close, but their bond had grown even stronger since becoming roommates.

Now Judy excused herself from her mother’s bedroom, thankful for the hospice nurse’s capabilities and care. Samson followed her to the family room.

As Judy awaited her brothers’ arrival, she began thinking of all the things she would need to do—make phone calls, plan a funeral service, schedule appointments, pay the bills. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check so she could function. Yet the weight of responsibility began pressing in. I can’t fall apart now. There is too much to do.

Her brothers arrived just before the coroner. Each of Grace’s sons went to the back bedroom to say goodbye to “Muz,” as they had lovingly called her.

Samson remained by Judy’s side, but then he began pacing and panting. Judy tried to calm him down with a head scratch as she started writing her list.

The hospice nurse placed her hand on Judy’s shoulder. “We’re all set now and about ready to leave.”

The nurse looked at Samson, who was panting nervously. “I think it might help him understand and relax if he can see and smell Grace one last time—to say goodbye.”

Judy was numb as she and Samson followed the nurse to the stretcher where her mother’s body lay. Samson sniffed Grace and nuzzled her. When she didn’t respond, he whined and then he lay down.

“He needs time to grieve too,” the nurse said, petting him gently.

Her words were meant for Samson, yet they wrapped around Judy’s heart, giving her permission to mourn as well. As the hospice team wheeled the gurney from the house, Judy didn’t try to stop the flood of tears. Her mother was gone, and it hurt.

Working through her to-do list could wait. Being strong could wait. Helping others could wait.

For the first time all day, Samson lay on his bed with his eyes closed. He seemed as exhausted from the weight of loss as Judy was.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Judy told Samson. “You’ve always known just what I need.”

PAWS & PONDER . . .

The nurse’s words brought healing to Judy’s heart. What are some healing words that someone has said to you? Who needs your wise words of healing today?

Paws & Pray

Lord, I know I can be reckless with my words at times. Help me think before I speak, and show me people I can offer hope and healing to. I want to let go of the hurtful comments that others have said to me. Direct me to words of healing in your Word.