For those of us raised or practicing the Christian faith, we know that this coming week – the week before Easter – is generally referred to as Holy Week. Different denominations and churches will do different things to commemorate this particular week. Growing up Southern Baptist, I don’t actually recall any special services other than Palm Sunday. (There may have been other services offered; we just didn’t attend any that I remember.)
The stories about the events of that week were told in Sunday School, so I have been familiar with them since childhood. However, I don’t recall the emphasis on how those events were set into motion, nor how they impacted the events of Good Friday and Easter.
That emphasis, however, was driven home when I joined the Roman Catholic faith as a young adult. At that time, I learned about the 40 days of Lent, as well as the somberness of the events of Holy Week. There was a special day (Ash Wednesday) to start the season of Lent. “Sacrifices” were expected to be made throughout Lent. (“What are you giving up?” was a common discussion or homily topic.) As well as special services each night throughout Holy Week to lead us up to Good Friday, where the entire church went into mourning. There was no service on Good Friday. Everything in our church was draped in black, and silence was usually observed from noon – 3pm in memory of the time Jesus hung on the cross.
Then more silence on Saturday as we waited…
And finally, the resurrection on Easter Sunday, when suddenly there was color and smiles and music and… life… sweet precious life… Salvation through resurrection was and is the message proclaimed on that day.
So, what does all of that have to do with this blog? How is it even remotely connected to what we encounter on this grief journey… this “new normal”? Let me explain…
This week I was challenged to take my thoughts on this liturgical season a little bit further when I read an article called, What Makes a Week Holy, by Rev. Jacquie Fernandez, in the March/April 2024 edition of Unity Magazine. Here I want to take what she says and expand on it to include our journey… (To be clear, these are her ideas with my expansion of them.)
My thought is that we all have a holy week… However, my question is… Can we see it as such?
Holy Week for Jesus was not a good week… It was a week filled with a lot of hardship and emotion. It was a time in his career when he was considered a “star” in his own right. Things seemed to be going well. He found himself surrounded by the curiosity of the crowds who wanted to see what he was all about… The people – his people were overwhelmed with love for this man. Life seemed to be going in the right direction… until it wasn’t…
Does any of that sound familiar?
It does for me. The week before Bruce passed on January 12, started with Epiphany… A celebration of the Wise Men visiting Jesus… A day of gift-giving in remembrance of that legendary visit. Bruce was not raised in a faith that celebrated Epiphany, and since it followed closely behind Christmas, he often (okay… always) forgot about it. To save any feelings of disappointment that last year, I purchased a gift from and to both of us. (Nothing required on his part.) The look of relief on his face that morning was priceless! The gift wasn’t anything big or amazing, but the impact it had on the day and our relationship was everything I could have hoped for. It was definitely a great way to start the week… no hard feelings, no guilt… and no regrets.
While we both had two days off a week, the only one we shared was Sunday. Bruce’s other day off was Thursday. That week, like any other week, was “normal”. We started each day as always, going through our morning routines and kissing each other good-bye as we went our separate ways, texting throughout the day (little things that were only important to the two of us), greeting each other with hugs and kisses back at home, and finally, retiring for the night in each other’s arms – all snuggly and cozy – as we let the peace of slumber fill us with the comfort of normalcy… Life was good.
On Thursday, his day off, Bruce went to watch the sunrise at the beach, sending me photos and a message that read, “My only regret this morning is that you aren’t here to share this with me.” Of course, I smiled and responded with, “Next time. <3”
Only there would not be a “next time”…
Friday… Our “good Friday”… started like any other day with kisses good-by as we each left for work. A few text messages were exchanged throughout the day, as we let each other know what time to we expected to be home, and what to do for dinner… All normal… All good… All with the expectation of more days just like this one…
I beat Bruce home that night by about two or more hours. When I finally heard his SUV in the driveway, I ran out to greet him with a kiss and to help him carry his things into the house. I had already eaten hours ago, but I still sat with him at the table as he ate, and we discussed our Sunday plans for kayaking. Then, off to bed – all snuggly and cozy, as we again let the peace of slumber fill us with the comfort of normalcy.
Then at 1:15 am, it started… I awoke to Bruce dying…
The days, weeks, and months that followed were some of the hardest I have ever endured. The shock and trauma of the actual event, plus the grief and loneliness of his loss were overwhelming to say the least. I found myself in deep, deep depression for several years – trying to find my way back… trying to be okay…
Finally, more than a decade later, I can say that I am enjoying life again… I miss Bruce immensely. Yet, somewhere on this spiritual journey, (one inspired and supported by him), I am finally understanding that our connection is not over.
If anything, just like my salvation is found in the resurrection of Jesus, which is transformational (not the death, which is transactional), finding my way on this spiritual path has also led to a resurrection of my heart… A transformation that is connected to the Divine within and all around… A connection that includes the loving energy Bruce added to my life and allows me… no… encourages and inspires me to see that same Divine energy all around me, allowing me to see all things and everyone as a Divine creation.
If I go a step further and define “holy” as “wholeness; being made whole”, then my perspective on that last week together and the years since also take on a whole new meaning.
Like Jesus, my own “holy week” was filled with normal life events that turned into an agonizing traumatic event… Watching and holding the person with whom I was integrally connected die… Then the days, months, and years spent hiding… waiting… too scared to move and too scared to stay still. Until (with Bruce’s legacy as my guide), I found my own faith – one that created real transformation from within… One that has resurrected my life and allows me to laugh… and love… and live – really live my life again.
I’m not trying to be sacrilegious in making this comparison. Quite the opposite… I am trying to point out the holy gifts in our own lives that may not feel like a gift as we usually define it… I am trying to give us something of value to validate our own experiences… Something that makes those events holy because they have the ability to make us whole by enabling a Divine connection that we might miss otherwise.
So, my question today is… When was your holy week? And… Have you/Can you work through it to find your own holy resurrection… your own transformation back into a Divinely connected life? … Back to a place of wholeness?
“…if you picked a day out of your own week or month or year, whatever season of transformation you might find yourself in – would you be able to call the worst of it holy? A new perspective such as this is indeed a sacred gift.” ~ Rev. Jacquie Fernandez, What Makes a Week Holy/Unity Magazine, March/April 2024 ________________________________________________________
Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.
Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
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