Of Wedding Dresses and Grieving Hearts: Navigating Life's Juxtapositions

It was Saturday afternoon. I was in a thrift shop with my future daughter-in-law, looking at a brand new wedding dress when I received the text I had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. The one that told me that my dear friend who had been battling cancer for four long years and on hospice care for almost two weeks, had entered into eternity. A fresh new wave of grief hit me, but I couldn’t express it. Not in a thrift store. So we left. We got in the car and I drove home. I went upstairs to tell my husband, and broke down. 

My son and future daughter-in-law had driven here for the weekend to work on wedding plans and to go dress shopping. My husband and I were going to go to Phoenix and do all the wedding things there, but with my friend on hospice care, I didn’t want to leave town. I wanted to be available and nearby. They graciously agreed to drive home. So while we were trying out food from a potential caterer, working on the design of the invitations, planning the reception decor, and wedding dress shopping (she did say yes to a different dress), I was also grieving the loss of my friend. There were moments where tears just arrived. I was looking through my texts and found the last text exchange between my friend and I. Tears. Followed by prayers for peace and comfort for her husband and three children. And her extended family. 

I am so grateful that her husband and family let me spend lots of time with her during her last weeks on earth. I said everything I wanted to say to her. I told her how she inspired me as she made a choice to leave a job she loved to take on something new so she could be the wife and mom she knew God wanted her to be. That decision was tough for me, but I knew it was the right decision for her. Her faith in the Lord, her strength and endurance during her battle with cancer inspired and challenged me. I’m embarrassed, in light of what she has been through, at how easily I whine and complain about little things. 

She knew her time was getting short, and she knew where she was going. She was sad to leave her husband and children, but knew that there was a community of people who love them and will make sure they are taken care of. The last time I was with her, I played some worship music for her, interspersed with reading scripture to her. She seemed to be sleeping most of the time. When I finally decided I should go, as I leaned over her to tell her one more time that I loved her, she opened her eyes, looked at me, and said, “Thank you Betsy.” I’ll never forget that moment as long as I live. 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4 During the two weeks she was on hospice care, I canceled my Bible Study that I lead, which, ironically, is a study on the Sermon on the Mount. We had gone over this verse just a few weeks prior. While there have been times of extreme sadness, I also have been comforted by the presence and peace of the Lord as I have grieved this loss. 

For those of you who are navigating a similar situation, let me encourage you that it’s ok to feel joy while you are grieving. And, it’s ok to grieve while you are celebrating. 

As I reflect on this weekend of wedding dress shopping and grieving, I'm reminded that life's tapestry is woven with threads of joy and threads of sorrow. It's not an either-or situation; we can experience both, sometimes simultaneously. Through it all, I find solace in the words of Psalm 34:18, 'The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.' May we lean on His comforting presence in times of celebration and mourning, finding strength from Him and our community.