Love Taps – Make Peace with Grief in Midlife
Remember love taps when we were kids? Someone would hit you, maybe a little too hard, and when you said, “Ouch!”, they would reply, “Oh, it was just a love tap.” Well, that’s what I call those little moments when you run across something that reminds you of your dearly departed. It hurts for a minute, but then it makes you smile because you were loved. Love Taps can help you make peace with grief.
Once we reach a certain age, we become all too familiar with the loss of loved ones, both family and friends. Once I turned 50, the losses became more frequent. As little signs start appearing in people I love, I start preparing my heart for the inevitable. Knowing it’s coming doesn’t really ease the pain of grief, but it does take away the gut-punch of surprise. I was blessed that my grandparents lived into their late 80’s and early 90’s, which gave me access to their love, recipes, and our family stories well into my own midlife.
Grandma’s Love Taps
I consider myself incredibly blessed to have had my maternal Grandmother at my 50th birthday party. Grams lived with us for the last couple of years of her life. We had a very special relationship, and I was so thankful to have been able to spend concentrated time with her. My entire life, she used Dove Soap, Witch Hazel, and Nivea Cream as her facial routine. In fact, she used Nivea as her all-purpose moisturizer.
She had little jars of Nivea all over the house, in each bathroom, and even in the windowsill next to the kitchen sink. She liked to carry it in her purse, too. She’s been gone for 9 years, but the smell of Nivea brings back a rush of memories and sweet grandma hugs. Since Grams lived with us, her stuff was ever present in our house. Stumbling into something that reminded me of her was a daily occurrence. But nothing was as big of a Love Tap as those Nivea jars. Digging through my desk at work, I found one in my drawer a few years after she died. I always feel so close to her when this happens. Acknowledging the twinge of sadness that will always be there, I say a prayer of thanks for the timely love tap, because they always happen when I need them.
Love Taps from Lynn
Early last year, we lost my stepmom, Lynn. She and Dad had been married nearly 44 years. Lynn had battled cancer on and off for the better part of 5 years. She always battled hard, and won, so there was no reason to expect that wouldn’t be the case this time. Lynn was only in her mid-seventies, and generally healthy otherwise. But when we went to visit after she had a fall and an accompanying hip replacement, I was surprised by the woman who greeted me from the hospital bed. As my husband and I were leaving town a few days later, I cried because I felt this would be the last time, we would see her. I was not at all surprised to receive a call a week later, saying that she would not be receiving any more cancer treatment and that she was coming home on palliative care.
We drove up to be there when she came home, and we drove up every other weekend, coordinating with my brother’s family, so they always had someone there to help. As so often happens during end times, she rallied. All of the kids of the family (my brother and I, our kids, and her niece and nephews) came to visit in one loud and fun weekend.
Through the Holidays
We all decorated the house for Christmas, while she pointed out the best and proper spot for each cherished ornament from her bed that was set up in the family room. We’ll always have those bittersweet memories of our last weeks together. My brother and I took turns leaving Hershey’s kisses on the pillows for each other in the guest room, after we washed and remade the bed at the end of each visit. Now Hershey’s kisses provide a little love tap that remind me of that sad but sweet time, and of the love we all shared.
I spoke at her celebration of life, and I reminded everyone to notice the love taps that Lynn left for each of us. In fact, just this morning I made one of her recipes and said my silent thank you for the gifts she left behind.
Make Peace With Grief
We don’t ever really “get over” grief, do we. Maybe we move on with grief, but it never really leaves us. We learn to find joy in spite of the grief. In his Ted Talk, Jason B. Rosenthal talks about his journey through loss and grief. It’s certainly different for each person, and each relationship, but in looking toward our next chapter, we each have to take those first steps. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine, but we really must make a new life for ourselves. We can never go back to “normal” because the old life died along with our loved one. What’s left is a different experience, entirely. What will you do with your fresh start?
Losing a Friend
The first time I lost someone who was very close to me, I was in my early 20’s. My dear friend Karl, who was a couple of years younger than I, became a casualty of the AIDS epidemic of the early 80’s. At that time, they weren’t yet calling it AIDS. The FDA had not approved a drug for treatment, and Karl’s 70-year-old mother would drive down to Mexico to purchase an off-label treatment. She was so angry that the FDA was taking their sweet time in approving a drug, and that she had to purchase it in another country. I’m not even sure the drugs she gave him hurt or helped.
Karl’s body deteriorated at a rapid pace, and he was gone only months after he got sick. Watching him waste away was excruciating, as was watching his momma try every possible thing to save him. I would visit as often as possible so his mom could take a shower or go to the store. Those were very hard days for their entire family and friends.
Realistic Dreams
A few years after Karl had died, I had an incredibly realistic dream. It’s the first, and last time I can remember ever feeling a real tactile touch during sleep. In this dream, I went to the door to answer a knock. When I opened it, Karl was standing there smiling his beautiful smile. He rushed in and I threw my arms around his neck while he threw his around my waist. I can still feel his touch, and I remember the dream as though it were yesterday. I said, “Oh, Karl, it’s been so long!” And he replied, “Yes, it’s been 1,276 days.” Then I sat right up in bed, startled awake, still feeling the weight of his arms around my body.
Am I Crazy? (Don’t Answer That)
I did the quick math in my head and thought that random number was rather close to the day he died. I’m not someone who usually keeps track of death dates, as I prefer to have my memories of the living. So, I wrote his mom a letter telling her of my dream and asking for the date he passed away. About a week later, I received a card back from her. She calculated the number of days back to the date I had last actually seen him alive! She kept journals during this time and was able to trace it back. I was stunned.
I’ve always wondered about these types of visitations. Did he really come to me in my sleep, or was my mind keeping track of days in the subconscious? It’s not the only such experience I’ve ever had, but the only one of this specific nature. Was my heart simply working through grief? I’ll never know. But I do know that Karl’s death left a hole in my heart, and I miss him every single day.
Birthday Towel from Karl
Of all the funny things a teenager could give as a gift, Karl bought me a towel for my 15th birthday. I was in love with an artist named Rabindra Danks. You might remember his black and white drawings of cats, with colored eyes and a red dot as his signature. Rabindra had a gallery in the local mall, and in addition to his paintings and prints, you could buy cards, t-shirts, and towels. Since I loved going to the beach, Karl bought me a Rabindra towel.
I remember opening his gift that day, and I still have that towel. It has grayed, and the edges are all frayed, so I don’t actually use it anymore for fear of ruining it further. But I’ll always keep it because Karl gave it to me. It’s in the hall closet where I keep the pool towels. Each time I open that cupboard to get a towel, I see it. Karl’s love tap.
If this post resonated with you, you might enjoy reading Leaving the Life You Know.
Do you notice the love taps left for you by your dearly departed? Share with us in the comments.
