Miss Kitty
Tracy Lee • March 26, 2020
Last month, a dear friend of mine passed. His wife is now a widow. Although she is a tiny woman, she is an elegant and strong woman. I have admired her style, elegance, and strength for many years. She and her husband were business associates at the beginning of our association but became wonderful friends very quickly. She is witty, friendly, and charming.
My husband and I have benefited greatly from our association and friendship with our two friends. The news of his death, although not surprising, was distressing. We were so worried about his widow, how she would carry on now that he would no longer be with her, how she would maintain their large home in the Metroplex, and would her now found aloneness get the better of her. We suspected she would recover well, but she and Terry had been sweethearts, husband and wife, mom and dad, grandpa and grandma, and working business partners for ¾s of their lives. Her adjustment to being without him would be extremely painful, daunting, and unbelievably heart wrenching.
I have been greatly worried for her and praying for her recovery. Last week she called me to thank my husband and me for attending Terry’s service. She expressed gratitude for my husband’s words as he addressed the attendees at the graveside, and to me for the copy of my book, Mourning Light I. She said that her particular favorite was Grief Brief 91.
Grief Brief 91
The Ultimate Adversity
Love is tempered and grows stronger through adversity and sacrifice. The more we experience together, the stronger our relationships become. Death eradicates our ability to be together and to continue experiencing life together. It does not, however, eradicate our ability to continue loving our decedent. It does not make it impossible for our love to continue on and deepen as we continue through life without our companion or our loved one.
Love is not a physical experience - it is a deeply emotional and spiritual experience. Were it not so, how would one explain the love a parent has for an unborn child? How would one explain the abiding love parents carry to their graves for their miscarried children?
Death is the ultimate adversary in our relationships. It does not, however, sever us from the love we hold dear in our hearts.
(Mourning Light, Tracy Reneé Lee, 2016)
When I was a young woman, my husband was called to serve in Desert Storm/Desert Shield. Back then, cell phones and internet services were not yet available to the general population, so communications were not frequent. We had just begun our dear little family together and off he went to war. Having my first infant and losing my husband’s assistance and participation in her rearing was tough to bear. The agony of not knowing daily, weekly, and even multi-monthly on occasion, whether he was dead or alive was beyond stressful. I was the ombudsman for his command at the time and worked with families, both Navy, and Marine until the safe return home of their troops. We had just purchased our home and each month found ourselves short a few hundred dollars for our basic living needs. My valiant husband sacrificed nearly his entire paycheck for our new baby and me. He kept a mere $30.00 monthly, for hygiene items. Still, we remained short of adequate funds.
During my husband's deployment, his monthly paycheck stopped arriving into our joint checking account. I notified his stateside Captain, and four months later, his paycheck was reinstated. For four long and arduous months, my baby and I sold everything we owned, other than the house. When my husband returned home from war, his family had no vehicles, no food, no furniture, no toys, and bare closets. I had sold everything in order to save our home.
The first Gulf War was a difficult time our family. One of loneliness, adversity, and fear. The sacrifices my husband had made for us were great. The sacrifices he had made for his country were enormous. The planning and implementation of operations to accomplish his missions and keep his troops alive had been unbelievably stressful and nearly unbearable under the adversity of knowing his family had been deserted by the government, and worrying about our survival. We made it though. Increadibly, we were able to meet our financial obligations each month and keep our home. My husband may not have come home to the same warm and cozy home he had left, but he came home to a roof over his head and his loving family anxiously awaiting his return.
The rich blessings from these trials and adversities served to strengthen our love for each other and our marriage for time and all eternity. When my husband left for war, we were a team. When he came home from war, we were a tenable fortress. Never to waiver in our commitments, our love, our strength, nor our purpose. Adversity had made us an impenetrable force. My friends, Kitty and Terry were that way. Their years together and the trials they had suffered had melded them into a powerful fortress.
Whenever I help a widow in my funeral practice, I always ponder what my actions would be were I to suffer their same scenario. Should my husband pass before I do, I pray that my experiences and bonds with him will shore up my strength, and that I will be the beacon of light, strength, and elegance that Kitty so naturally displays.
Death, the ultimate adversity, steals our loved ones, but, it does not sever us from the love we hold dear in our hearts.
The past two weeks have been difficult for me. I have suffered the loss of a dear friend and have served families that have suffered great losses. The COVID-19 pandemic has caused unwarranted loss, stress, and heartache to so many people this year. Not only have we lost loved ones, but we have lost our economy, our comfort, and our security as Americans. Everywhere I look, it seems that people are rude and uncaring toward each other when what we need is love. I wish we could be kind to each other, considerate to each other, and help each other through our difficulties rather than burning cities, burning businesses, and tearing apart what makes up great, our Union. Americans are the most blessed people in the world. We live in a time of convenience and wealth. Why is it then that we can’t add kindness and respect to our society? Why must there be murders and brutal attacks on innocent people walking down the street? I work with families every day who would give all that they have for just one more moment with their loved one to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Time is so precious, but even more precious is the way that we treat others. For if we treat others with contempt, we will reap the bitter reward of hatred. Hate eats a person from the inside out, and no matter how hard a hateful person tries to find happiness, it will never come to them. I know this because I see it every day. A hateful heart has no room for happiness. Happiness only comes to those who love. Love is like light. Light is the only thing that is stronger than the dark. If you have a completely dark room and you strike a match, the light from that match will push the darkness away and light up the room. Conversely, if you have a room filled with light and you cup your hands to create a spot of darkness. As soon as you open your hands, the dark is gone. Light overpowers it just as love overpowers hate. Love is the only thing that is stronger than hate. If you strike an ember of love in the heart of someone full of hate, love will grow and overtake their hatred. In my profession, love is very important. I see all too often those who have pushed love aside thinking that they were winning an argument or for some other ridiculous reason. What I see when this happens is that at the end of life, those who were foolish and let hatred get the best of them suffer the most. They remain miserable for the rest of their lives. Don’t be one of these people. Don’t let hatred get the best of you. And most assuredly, let us not allow hatred to overtake our country. I don’t want to live in a world filled with hatred and discontent. I want happiness and love for all. I especially want love in your life when you suffer loss because believe me, when the grim reaper knocks, it’s too late to cry for one more moment to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” At that moment, the weight of hatred crushes every hope you ever had to make amends, to accomplish happiness, or to right any wrong you may have perpetrated. It’s too late and you are the person who will suffer the consequences of your vicious actions. You are the person who will have no friends, no love, and who will die alone; miserable because of your hatred and terrible deeds. I know because I see it in so many people who thought they could just make a statement, a judgment, or an action and not suffer the consequences. In the end, it’s the hateful people who suffer the consequences. They die alone without love or support. Their needs are not met and they writhe in misery. I lost a dear friend this past week. He was kind, loving, and good. He made the world a better place, and he made my life happier through his actions of kindness toward me. I wish everyone alive could have known my friend. Christ died to make man holy, and my friend John took up his offer. John was a holy man. He lived his life serving others, teaching others, and helping anyone who needed help. He was filled with love and he shared his love with those who needed it. If we could all be like John, the world would be an amazingly happy and beautiful place. John is gone and I feel the weight of his loss deeply in my soul. He leaves a legacy of service to our nation, service to Christ, and service to anyone who needed it. He was a good man, a great man, and now he is gone. I will have the honor of directing his memorial service in a few days. The church will be bursting as those who John served make their way there to express their sorrow and love for him. I will be one of those people. John’s legacy will continue in his absence because he ignited goodness, love, and service in the hearts of those about him. May we all understand and embrace John’s mission in life to serve and love our fellow beings. Doing so will bring us the greatest rewards. It will fill our lives with the greatest gifts on earth; joy, happiness, and love. This is my prayer for you, for our nation, and for the world during this time of uncertainty and discontent. Thank you, John, for being my friend, and my God bless you as you arrive home, never to suffer more, the pains of the world nor heartaches of men. Godspeed.
I received a first call late last night and was therefore at the hospital when I ran into an acquaintance of mine. As we spoke, she told me that her father had recently died. She began to cry and I offered to send over a set of my grief books (Mourning Light I, II, & III) to her office the following morning. I wrote her a sympathy card and delivered the books about 15 minutes ago. She had not yet arrived at her office, so I left the books and card with her secretary. The following is the note I wrote in the sympathy card. I thought I would share it, in hopes that it might help others who mourn as well. Dear Friend, February will be the 2nd anniversary of my grandson’s death. It is said that “Death is Final”; that is untrue. The pain and loneliness remain in my soul, and it feels as though I held his lifeless body, yesterday, in my arms. That day broke me; it almost killed me. Had I not had the love and support of my husband and children, I don’t think my sanity would have remained with me. The pain continues to crush my soul with anguish. There are 4 things that have helped me survive the debilitating pain of losing my grandson, and I wanted to share them with you in hopes that you might find peace in them as well. Prayer Prayer was, and continues to be, my saving grace. Without the love and promise of Christ’s redeeming grace, peace would remain unobtainable. Recounting my Experience Sharing my story out loud made it real. It took away my fear. It gave me power over the chaos of pain. Information As a certified grief counselor, knowing what to expect and whether it was normal or abnormal helped keep my worries at bay. The books that I have sent over are filled with information, plainly and simply written, to help you understand and identify the symptoms of grief, as well as recovery’s signs and secrets. Journaling Writing down my anguishes, thoughts, pains, worries, and fears helped me to let them go. I was able to organize myself, and it gave me hope for my future. I am sorry for the dreadful sorrow in your heart, and the pain that infiltrates your daily existence. I understand that breathing feels unnatural, it takes effort to continue on, and that peace eludes you. I wish that death did not exist, but it is a reality that the both of us know all too well; one that we must endure. I believe that families are forever, that we are all God’s children, and that we will reunite with our loved ones across the veil as we too, one day, experience death. Until that day arrives, however, I pray that you and I will live our lives as emissaries of Christ, basking in his grace, and recipients of his glory. I hope that as you suffer the loss of your daddy that you will feel comfortable in reaching out to others, and that you might call me should you need assistance. The pain of grief should never be carried nor suffered in silence, nor alone. Reach out and allow those who love and care for you to lighten your burdens. Life will never be as it once was, but it will improve as you share priceless moments of peace with those who remain by your side. I hold you in high esteem, and pray that Christ’s promise will grace your soul. With Deepest Regards, Tracy Lee My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, and co-founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on, as well as educate adults in the needs of surviving children.