Last time on the blog, I shared a story about a great joy in my life. Although the joys of my life are more abundant than I deserve, I cannot pretend that my life is without suffering. Suffering is often a great place to tell a story, because suffering brings people together in a very particular way. So today, I am going to shift gears, in honor of November being the month of prayer for the dead, and talk about my journey with grief. My summer started and ended with loss. At the beginning of the summer my great grandmother passed away. At the end of the summer I lost my grandmother. Even though these two losses were only a few months apart, I handled the grieving process for each of them differently. For starters, my public grieving had to be different for both of them. GG was buried in a Protestant service done by the funeral home, while Grandma Bixby had a Catholic funeral in her lifelong parish. I think this outward difference made a huge internal difference for me in the way that...
Just an amateur Oklahoma Catholic sharing thoughts rooted in her faith worldview