I’ve read countless posts in the bereaved parents’ groups that I belong to about grief triggers. I’ve written about them myself. If your child has been gone for a few years, you can usually anticipate and avoid (or at least prepare for) many triggers. Specific dates are obvious: your child’s birthday or homegoing date, your own birthday, holidays, or a “should-have-been” date such as graduation.
In the almost eight-and-a-half years since Rachel went to Heaven, I’ve learned to handle most triggers and I’m usually able to enjoy holidays and family get-togethers. I still get nostalgic and think about all the things she’s missing, especially as her nieces and nephews grow and change.
But every once in a while, something hits me out of the blue. Something that brings the missing right back to my heart. Today was one of those once in a whiles.
When Rachel was in college, she became friends with a young couple through a campus Christian group. They invited her to come to their church, and she quickly felt very at home there. At the time, the church was new and small. It met in the gymnasium of a high school. Pretty quickly Rachel took charge of their hospitality time. As folks were gathering at church, for a half hour or so, they could mingle, sip coffee or juice, and munch on fruit and pastries.
Rachel volunteered to run the kitchen for two reasons. First, she was somewhat shy about meeting new people and not real comfortable with small talk. So, making sure the pastry tray was filled and pouring coffee gave her something to do and chat about when a new person walked up.
She admitted to me that her main reason for volunteering though was that their coffee was not very good. She not only volunteered to serve the coffee, but to buy it and make it, as well. As she put it, she was going to be sure visitors got the best d@mn cup of coffee they’d ever had.
A few years later, her good friends got married and the husband became an associate pastor at the church. Rachel loved attending home group meetings at their house. She was also close to the senior pastor and his wife, and she often babysat their four children. The church grew and was able to move into a larger space. Rachel kept her position as hospitality hour host.
By the time her friends introduced her to the man who became her husband, the church had expanded to a building in an office park that afforded them not only a much larger sanctuary, but several Sunday School rooms, office space for the pastors and admin, a nursery, and lounge areas for youth groups. Oh yes, and a real kitchen. In need of some upgrades, true, but a real one, nonetheless.
Rachel and her fiancé were married almost exactly a year after they met. She was still serving coffee every Sunday and was excited about the renovations of the kitchen. Two months after their wedding she died in a car accident.
A few months later our family gathered with her church family to celebrate the dedication of Rachel’s Kitchen. Her name was on a sign over the pass-through window and her friend promised they would still serve the best d@mn coffee you’ve ever had.
Back to today.
I was scrolling Facebook and saw a post from the senior pastor’s wife. She was excited to announce that their church had found a new home. And not a gymnasium or office building this time. But an actual church building. In a beautiful setting, with a lovely wrought-iron fence around the grounds. With a steeple. And room to grow. Rachel’s husband, her friends, the pastor’s kids who are all grown now, and lots of people she never got to meet will all worship there. And mingle before the service.
I’m pretty sure the new church has a kitchen. I just hope the coffee’s good.
Laura
A Light for My Path 
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