“Maybe it doesn’t matter whether something is a coincidence or a sign, maybe the best way to cope with the loss of the people we love is to find them in as many places and things as we possibly can. And in the off chance that the people we lose are still somehow able to hear us, maybe we should never stop talking to them.”
I pulled out of my neighborhood one morning recently, to see two guys in the pasture across the way making erratic movements with their bodies. I kept watching, trying to figure out if they were fighting, dancing, or having synchronized seizures. After a bit I realized they had golf clubs in their hands, one was teaching the other how to swing like Happy Gilmore.
I had to smile. Our friend Brad had the Happy Gilmore swing down to an art, it was one of the first things Chad experienced when meeting him on the golf course the day of our wedding. I teared up and drove off with a wistful smile.
Brad left this world last fall and we all miss him so deeply it physically hurts. The weeks after he left were the saddest of my life, I saw him and felt him everywhere. I started writing down all the “Heavenly Hugs” that we got throughout the day because I never wanted to forget them or second guess the miracle of them when looking back later in life.
The day of his funeral services, I arrived a few hours early. After sitting in an empty parking lot for a bit, I got the courage to go inside and ask if I could see him. Walking up to his casket in the quiet room, I swear I could hear him chuckling at me in his good natured way, knowing I would do this.
“Did you make it to heaven okay my friend? Why did you have to get there before the rest of us?”
They say you can drown in two inches of water, it doesn’t have to be a flood, but water steadily flapping at our ankles. Grief seems to be the same. Grief can drown us, yet doesn’t kill us. It keeps us submerged for long enough that we forget what air and sunshine feels like. Grief sets it’s own timeline, and the only way out is through.
On the drive out to our family Deer Camp, there are huge piles of sand that have been there for some time. Deep crevices, and gullies have formed in the hills. I think that is what a grieving heart looks like. Withered and dehydrated as it is enduring the hardships of bad weather and the scorching sun.
Desolate.
After Brad’s service, several of us went to find dinner. We ended up at a hole in the wall Mexican food restaurant (later learning it was Brad’s local favorite). We gathered around the table, somber and quiet. We slowly started reminiscing and telling stories of our beloved friend. Laughter ensued at the sweet memories of a childhood well lived.
Crevice by crevice, our hearts have slowly plumped back up. Never to where they were before, but instead of craters there are the cracks that heartbreak brings. We linked arms and grieved together which makes it closer to bearable.
The worst days ahead were watching his family live without him. His beautiful, beloved wife holding her head high as she has to go on raising their boys who they love so fiercely. His daughter and sons, figuring out how to continue to live without their biggest fan having an earthly voice.
We have learned how to honor Brad the most by continuing to live. We continue to live, laugh, love, and learn because his time doing that here has passed. They say grief is the receipt of how much you love a person. If that is true, we would do it all over again. It was worth it. I would only have loved deeper and wider.
Happy 1st Heavenly Birthday Brad Haugen. Thank you for all the love and lessons. Thank you for your friendship. Life is moving at a rapid speed, and yet you still manage to get our attention and make us smile. All the way from heaven. I hope you’re showing someone up there how to perfect the Happy Gilmore swing.
*Recently Brad’s oldest son celebrated the end of 5th grade with a Bon Voyage celebration. They dressed up in Hawaiian shirts, Eli asked to wear the one he got his dad for his birthday last year. When I saw Vanessa’s post, I immediately thought of a favorite picture of Brad and their boys. I know he is so proud of all of them.
**Quote from Reminders of Him by Colleen Hoover