I totally understand this though. Grief comes in waves. Sometimes those waves are big and tall and come crashing down on you, pulling you under, making it hard to catch your breath. Grief crashed down on me like this last week, and I felt comepletely wiped out by it. At other times, Grief washes over you more subtly. Like looking at a box of tea and remembering my mom using the same brand. Or opening my cookbook and seeing recipe after recipe written in her nice neat handwriting. Or putting on a sweater that she picked out just for me.
Today I experienced one of these sublte moments. I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (like I do just about every other day....we love our chocolate chip cookies over here). Mike was busily working away in our home office, and I thought he'd appreciate a little afternoon snack. I poured a glass of milk, grabbed a napkin and a fresh-out-of-the-oven cookie, then finally went to my cabinet and grabbed a small tray to place all the items on. It was the tray that caught me off guard. My mom had given it to me a few years ago. It is a small metal tray with a Norman Rockwell print on it. It is well used; you can see the knife marks in the center of the tray. Growing up, my mom would serve me my after school snack on this tray every day. Apple slices, cheese and crackers, and of course chocolate chip cookies too. I stared at it imagining her lovingly preparing something simple for me to munch on and it actually brought me a lot of comfort. My heart felt the twinge of sadness that grief brings, but I was also able to smile and not be totally pulled under the water.