Grief is “Still” Part of the 4th of July

Photo Credit: @rayhennessey

It’s July 2nd and just like every other July 2nd for the past 26 years, my heart feels a bit heavy. It does’t seem to matter how many years pass by, heading into the holiday weekend stirs up difficult and painful memories.

My first husband and the father of two of my daughters would die in a tragic boating accident in the early morning hours of July 3rd, 1999 along with four other young men. Life would never be the same and yes, grief is “still” part of the 4th of July holiday weekend.

In a culture that is often uncomfortable with grief, it may seem strange or even frowned upon that I still write about it or grieve after all these years. There will always be people who don’t understand and honestly, I don’t care.

Grief is personal and while some won’t agree, I believe that if the loss is big enough or traumatic enough, grief becomes part of life and it often stays.

Yes it’s been 26 years, although in some ways it seems like the tragic events of July 3rd happened yesterday. I can still remember every detail of that horrible weekend and even if I didn’t want to remember, it’s impossible to forget.

Boats, fireworks, Santana, bare feet, water, flags, hot dogs on the grill, bonfires and s’more, and the colors of red, white, and blue all remind me of that weekend and as July 3rd draws near, I can’t help but think about it and feel the familiar stir of grief rise up and tug at my heart.

And I’m okay with that. It was a huge, tragic loss that changed life in an instant and turned everything upside down. I would expect grief to show up this time of year and for me, it’s always a reminder that someone mattered and is still loved and missed.

There are no timelines to grief and I “still” have a tradition that I have done for 25 years. At 1:25 AM on July 3rd, I will toast Scott and the other four men who lost their lives that night. Some people think I’m crazy to stay up every single year, but it’s something I need and want to do. It’s my way of remembering, honoring, and grieving - still.

But this story of loss and grief isn’t all doom and gloom. It’s important to know that just because grief is “still” part of the 4th of July doesn’t mean life isn’t good. Grief doesn’t control me or consume me like it did years ago. I’m not sobbing uncontrollably while watching fireworks or struggling to have fun with family and friends.

My girls and I have moved forward in life and while there is always sadness and tough memories on the 4th of July weekend, I love having our kids, grandkids, and friends up to the cabin every year.

This time of year is hard and even as I write this, my heart hurts. We will never forget but I know we will get through tomorrow and celebrate with everyone. I have learned that it IS possible to live a good life after loss and find peace, happiness, laughter, and joy again.

Even if grief is “still” here.

So tonight, I will stay up until 1:25 AM again. I will look up towards the stars and say a heartfelt toast with a smile and perhaps a few tears.

With love -

Michele