IN THE TWO YEARS and two months since my mom died, I have not cried much over losing her. Not at her funeral, held at the height of omicron in a church packed with mostly unmasked mourners. Not at the cemetery. Not once have I fully-wept.
It’s not that I don’t feel her loss deeply. I do. Some Sunday evenings I still want to pick up my phone and call her, as was my routine up until she could no longer manage even that. Now my son typically calls me on Sundays from his home in Boston, a gift to me in more ways than he can imagine.
The day before his last call, on a Saturday afternoon, the grief I’d tucked inside over my mom’s death spilled out. Everything came together in an emotional moment at my friend Arlene’s funeral. I missed Mom with the fierceness only a daughter can feel.
My mom’s name was Arlene. And I think that started the torrent of emotions I felt as I grieved the other Arlene, mother to Will and Karen and Steve. My friend. An artist. A woman of faith and compassion and kindness. So like my own mother, except for the creativity.
As I opened the worship folder graced with Arlene Rolf’s “Creation” batik art, I noticed first the selected scripture readings. Familiar. Meaningful. Joshua 1:8-9, verse 9 being my Confirmation verse: Be strong and courageous…for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
And then Romans 8:28-30. Verse 28 has always been a favorite bible passage: …in all things God works for the good of those who love him. That scripture, like Joshua 1:9, has carried me through many challenges in life.
Finally, I read the gospel lesson from John 10:7-15 about the good shepherd and his sheep. It was, I was certain, the same section of scripture read at my mom’s 2022 funeral. Later I would confirm the overlapping of verses chosen for the funerals of the two Arlenes.
I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in God moments. And I was experiencing those as I mourned my friend Arlene on March 9. I held it together, through all the bible readings, liturgy and songs, until several of Arlene’s grandchildren clustered together to sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Their pure, sweet voices, minus any instrumentals, carried such emotion. It was as if a band of angels were welcoming their grandmother, my friend, into heaven. It was too much. I felt tears brimming my eyes, then sliding down my cheeks as I thought of my own dear mother welcomed into the loving arms of Jesus on January 13, 2022.
In that moment I grieved.
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
I believe that was the Arlenes offering you a gift from heaven, the gift of open grief, that will help you on your journey ahead. I’m so sorry for both of your losses, both Arlenes, both so loved by you. like you, I do not think there are coincidences. I am heading off today (my blog today) to stay in a convent with my aunt who is a nun and such a wonderful and open person, and my sister, who recently lost her husband, will meet us there. I see it as a time of comfort, support, peace, and sharing and it could not come at a better time for any of us. while I never imagined spending a spring break in a convent, it is actually the perfect thing. I will ask the sisters to join me in a prayer for the Arlenes and for you, in your healing. I’ll be in good company to do so –
Oh, Beth, I am deeply touched that you will be praying for me while at the convent with your dear aunt and sister. I expect yours will be a peaceful and deeply spiritual experience that will bring you (and your sister, especially) comfort and hope. Blessings to all of you.
thank you
🙂
❤ ❤
I am so sorry for the loss of your two very special Arlenes, and I think they sent you a gift from heaven, allowing you to grieve openly as you needed to experience on your journey through your grief. I hope they have met and are enjoying each other’s company, perhaps finding they have a in common who loved both of them. like you, I am not a big believer in coincidences, and when you read my blog today, you’ll see that I’m leaving to stay in a convent for a few days, with my aunt, a very kind and generous nun, who struggles with travel, and my sister, who lost her husband on Christmas Day, will meet us there. It will be a time of peace, rest, meditation and the sharing our our family stories, and hopefully a place where my sister can begin her healing process. while I never expected to be in a convent during a spring break, it is really the perfect time and place to be. I will ask my aunt and the other sisters, to pray for you and your Arlenes, and this is quite a powerful bunch of women, you will be well supported.
I just saw this second comment. And although it’s similar to your first, it has some added elements that need to be shared here. Thank you for your thoughtful comment. Peace and grace to you, Beth.
I’m so glad, I’m in the midst of traveling and not sure that it went through –
Safe travels, my friend.
❤️
I feel your love, dear Ruth.
Beautiful how our Father brings healing through tears. hugs to you. Your mother sounded wonderfully kind. lov kathy
Tears are so healing. And so are hugs. I feel yours. And, yes, my mom was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.
Audrey, I tend to agree, that milestones are placed in our lives ruling out coincidences. i got very good at my last job, because I had worked many different fields. God moments are with us every day and for a purpose. When it is too late, we also realize that we have been held up by giants! They seem to have imbued us with with strengths that we will need to carry out God’s will. We all process our grief differently and there are many was to cope. I just wish I could find those! My recent leveling up in healing (Not all the way) was by former First Lady Elanor Roosevelt. it is said Death smiles at us all and it is also said Marines smile back. I grieve for many – almost at the drop of a pin. I am almost on the verge of tears about half of the day! I am no longer “normal”. One of my heroes is Confederate General N. B. Forest. May God be with you all, may it comfort you knowing others also weep for those called from us, but should thank him for putting them in our lives. May he grant us healing and the time to finish what he sent us here to do. For any number of reasons, by all rights, I should have died long before now. For some reason, I am here for a reason and a purpose even though many friends, parents and spouses have departed – there is a REASON for all this.
Gunny, once again you have written a profound comment filled with such love and strength. I especially appreciate your reminder to thank God for putting our loved ones in our lives.
I know your new grief is raw and deep. I’m sorry you recently lost your dear wife, lover of Blue Bonnets. That you cared for her was such a gift to her. She knew how deeply you loved her.
I say, cry. Tears are healing, Gunny. You are obviously a caring and loving soul, a man of faith, a man of strength and a man of compassion. Bless you, dear Gunny.
Audrey, last time I cried, I stepped out – away from others and cried tears for my daughter, her husband and their stillborn daughter. Not sure if I can translate my own emotions at present but let me put it this way: I would rather die.
Oh, Gunny, you have endured much loss. I’m sorry. Please feel my Minnesota hug stretching to you all the way in Texas.
Of one thing I am certain, Gunny. Your work on this earth is not done. Even through your pain and grief and suffering, God is working. I read it in your words. And I expect you share your compassion, love and wisdom with those in your circle and they are the better for you. I know that doesn’t take away your pain or even ease it. Praying for your peace and strength.
This is so beautiful as well as timely, as my mom died unexpectedly last month. I can resonate about the tears. They often don’t come when you might expect them, but often in seemingly random moments or when the most insignificant memories cross your mind. And when it’s a close family member you are running on adrenaline during all the memorial events. You crash later. But it’s a hopeful crash. I’m thankful to now be leaning into the hope of the Resurrection — both Christ’s and ours to come!
“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (I Thessalonians 4:13-14).
Tara, I am deeply sorry for the loss of your mom. Losing a mother is a special kind of grief. She’s your mom!
You’re right about grief coming in the most unexpected moments. And you’re right about running on adrenaline during the memorial service.
I read hope in your words and in the scripture you shared. Thank you for the Easter resurrection reminder, revealing that some day we will see our moms again. In heaven. Hugs to you as you grieve.
Grief certainly can show up at unexpected times but of course this beautiful service would trigger a lot of emotions. I am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend, Arlene.
Thank you, Beth Ann. You understand.
I’m sorry for the loss of your friend, Audrey.
Who knew the service for her would be an important part of your grieving process. i know grief strikes at unexpected times, and in unexpected ways.
Yes, I did not expect this. But that’s how grief works.
I’m sorry for your losses of your Arlenes, Audrey. I lost my mom in 2021 with covid. It’s difficult to know when emotions will flow through. My mom and I had a relationship of opposites. I didn’t grieve when she died, or during her funeral or burial. It was later, when I realized we wouldn’t be able to have the relationship with each other that we strived to achieve her last few years on earth. I feel at peace with our relationship now… Hugs to you.
Rose, I’m thankful you feel at peace now with your relationship between you and your mom. Losing your mom to COVID had to be difficult. It was really difficult for me to attend my mom’s funeral during COVID; I lost out on so much as I refused to stand in a receiving line shaking hands with unmasked people. It was really really hard and to this day I don’t understand why people couldn’t respect me enough to wear a mask for one hour.
(((((loveprayersandhugs)))))
Thank you! 🙂