Finding Joy After Grief

Mike and Sandy Emmerson

By: Sandy Emmerson

This is my journey of Finding Joy After Grief. Life After the loss of a loved one can be a difficult journey.

Some tremors of change are so subtle or gradual that you hardly even notice they have altered your life one way or another.  On the other hand, there are earthquakes of change that register above an eight on the Richter Magnitude Scale.  Such events possess the capability of destroying everything and everybody at the epicenter.

My family and I have lived through such change along with millions of other people who have lost their spouses, their children, their loved ones to COVID.  I can’t speak for all of them, but I can certainly speak for myself as the wife of one of the victims of this virulent monster.

I am honored and humbled by the opportunity to share a bit of my rubble-strewn passage through the smoky darkness of grief and back into a sunny day.

As I begin my own journey of finding joy after grief, it is my prayer and hope that my stories of finding glimmers of joy on cloudy, after-loss days will bring a ray or two of sunshine to the Texas Vintage Shopper readership.

I first met Mike 54 years ago this month in September. This first story shares the beginning of more than one of our journeys.  In the following months, you are welcome to follow my stories as well if you like.  Next month, I will share a mysterious surprise that appeared very unexpectedly a few months after Mike’s transition to his heavenly address.

Finding Joy After Grief: Feeling God’s Presence in Uncertainty

November 9, 2020–Walking out of the emergency care facility, I noted the warmth of the night in spite of the late autumn date.  One would think that the temperature past 11:00 PM on a mid-November Sunday night would be less sympathetic.  However,  there I was wrapped in a calm, balmy breeze under the bright welcoming lights of the parking lot.  God can divulge Himself in the details just as He paints the broad strokes of a breathtaking mountain view.

This whole scene starkly contrasted to the ER table where Mike laid gasping for air a few minutes prior.  COVID had occupied one of his lungs, and even though he could still breathe, his oxygen levels were consistently falling.  The worst fear of 2020 had walked out of the nightmare and into our reality.  My challenge was to walk through the uncertainty of the situation–not knowing if Mike would survive or where the staff could find a hospital bed. Luckily, Mike had a healing angel on his side, Nurse Heather.

Our Lamp Holder, Nurse Heather

Mike Emmerson
Mike Emmerson

At 12:30 AM, Heather phoned excitedly to tell me that she had found a room in New Braunfels, Texas.  My knee-jerk reaction countered with, “You aren’t going to let him go, are you?” New Braunfels is approximately 345 miles away from the Midland, Texas emergency facility where Mike waited for a room.  Heather assured me it was the only available room in Texas, so I swallowed deeply and said a prayer of thanksgiving.

This was only one challenge for our lamp holder, Heather, that night.  Plan A for an ambulance fell through because the vehicle could not hold enough oxygen to transport Mike the distance.  This was followed by a series of pilots who were unable to fly him across the state.  When Heather called the last time at 4:30 AM, she had meticulously worked out the details for the transport. One ambulance would take Mike halfway, and another would rendezvous to take Mike the remainder of the journey.  Heather had run the long race with Mike that evening in addition to caring for dozens of other critically ill patients.

As I sat slumped in a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, I thanked God profusely for a lamp-lighter named Heather.  Through the cutting anxiety of the moment, a special memory paid me a visit as cordially as an old friend.  My heart traveled back in time to a season when my worst fear was to have to walk into a dance by myself.

Where Our Story Began

Memories are an important part of finding joy after grief

September 1967– As I ascended the stairs headed toward World History class, I noticed the sharp-dressed Mike Emmerson descending to my left. Each day, he wore a new pair of golf pants,  a coordinating shirt, and a matching cardigan sweater accompanied by perfectly polished shoes.

Although he smiled at me, Mike rarely said anything.  One football Friday, that routine abruptly changed when Mike stopped me at the top of the stairs. He asked me if he could sign the spirit sign I wore as a Freshman in support of our team. I thanked him kindly and scurried off to history class to see what he painstakingly had written on my sign.  The message on my sign was of immeasurably greater fascination to me than the strategic moves of the Prussian army. When I flipped the decorated poster board over, I saw a rusty red mustang drawn with the caption, “Mustang Sandy.” (Who has markers of that color?)

The pieces began to fit together.

1967 Red Ford Mustang
Classic 1967 Red Ford Mustang

For days,  I had glimpsed a real rusty red Mustang passing in front of our house. History of the Classic Ford Mustang

The Beach Boys’ Good Vibrations blasted from his car as I sat suffering from algebra homework at the kitchen table. That iconic image was of Mike’s Mustang, and my name was attached to it! Did that mean I would be invited to my first homecoming dance of high school? Would there be a mum? (Did Mrs. Kilgore say the Russians were in Persia?) The answer came via telephone that same evening, and my life honestly changed on a dime.

 

Our Journey After High School

August 2021–Mike was my sweetheart for four years of high school after my first homecoming. Mike and Sandy Emmerson PromHe became my loving husband of 49 years as well as the devoted father of our two beautiful daughters. He was an avid, life-long golfer whose love of the game was exceeded only by his love of our family.  Mike was a beloved “Pops” to Emily and Gus and a hilarious, entertaining brother, uncle, and father-in-law.

This man was the best friend that anyone, including myself, could ever hope to find.  Mike remained flawlessly true to himself and to his Christian beliefs throughout every season of his 68-year life.  God shared an incredible amount of love through Mike to everyone who knew him.

Turning Scars Into Stars

Dr. Robert Schuller spoke often in his books about how God’s power was capable of turning our “scars into stars.” My prayer is that our pain for the loss of this unique, gentle man will be molded into stellar light. Turning Scars Into Stars pdf download

Although the pain of loss is difficult, and I know I can’t do this by myself, I do know this:  The sun is shining even when the stormiest clouds are hiding its magnificent smile.

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