A Letter to Joy: Enduring Loss Together

Dear Joy,

Just today, I stumbled across a binder full of printed email messages from the summer we started dating. I couldn’t put it down.

We were so footloose, so flirtatious, so playful, so poetic. So unsuspecting. Back then, we measured loss in welts from Manhattan mosquito bites and wet hair from unexpected afternoon rains.

Little did we know that less than 2 years into our marriage, the first fruits of the loss we know today would settle like a fog on our home. Before Elli was born in 2000, I had never once considered the concept of birth defects. When I first learned of her life-threatening heart issues, I kept terrible thoughts locked up. I wanted to return her to God’s Customer Service desk and get a refund—or exchange her for a child that wasn’t defective.

From the beginning, we dealt with disappointment in secret, too tired to talk, too preoccupied with her care. It’s no surprise that couples in our situation divorce. You stop seeing each other as soul mates when everyday life feels more like a hospital ward than a home.

Then, 8 years later, heaven swallowed Elli's soul early one morning in her sleep. She entered eternity, and we were left with what felt like a mile-wide crater in the middle of our house. Sadly, our emotional separation during her life had landed us on opposite sides of that crater, grieving her loss in opposite ends of the house.

Somehow, we spotted each other, and slowly hobbled around to meet on the same side of the crater. But then, a surprising challenge came. Neither of us realized that grieving processes are as diverse as the people who grieve. 

I grieved standing up, and found hard work to be therapeutic. You closed the blinds on life, and befriended the darkness of depression. You perceived my grieving as insensitive. I perceived yours as wallowing in self-pity. We were both wrong. We made bad grief partners, each wanting the other to snap out of it.

Now, almost 4 years since we lost Elli, we still deal with her loss differently. But something about knowing this has made all the difference in our love, understanding and acceptance of each other. At least now, we can see and appreciate our different grief styles and not let it be a hindrance to our mutual healing. This is the one lesson I want to scream from the rooftops.

Ironically, loss has not left us empty-handed. It has left us with a ministry. As a couple, we can meet those dealing with welts and wet hair where they are, and give out of the rich storehouse of comfort we have received. We can point them to the God of all comfort, who has been our only Hope for hanging on while letting go.

For better, or for worse,

Scott


On Mondays, Joy and I join Seth and Amber Haines as they fight the good fight for their marriage. They call this weekly series “Marriage Letters” and pray that it encourages each of us in our own hard work of marriage. Next week's prompt is “On Outside Influences.” You can join us any time with your own letter to your spouse, whether you both write or blog or not. Joy is  hosting today's link-up on her blog, so we hope you’ll share your letter there!