Treasure Room Life

by Jerri Kelley

When my late husband died, my friend Sally Daniels, also a counselor, told me the kids would experience the grief every time they went through a new developmental stage because they would reprocess it in their new ability, emotional needs, and understanding. I am so glad she told me because, gracious, she was so right.

This is what I have realized in the last 5 months, reprocessing loss also happens when a lot of “loss” (changes where someone or something important exits you life) happens in close time proximity. 

In 5 months, I have lost my brother, packed and moved his things, packed and moved from Allen to Sanger, helped my daughter and her friends pack and move from Allen to Denver, let go of a key friendship, and sold my car. 

I didn’t expect the car to be a big thing, and the truth is the car isn’t. What is a big thing is that I bought that car because I anticipated a life change where I had a traditional job, drove, and felt…purposed and successful. 

As it turns out, it allowed me to share the truck with my daughter’s roommate during bad weather so her roommate could use her electric bike otherwise and not buy a car she couldn’t afford. It allowed me to make trips to see my dear friends adopt their beautiful children, sit with my aunt and uncle during their last days, attend their memorials, and spend a few days on the beach. Instead of taking me to a traditional job, it took me from Allen to Sanger every week to help my brother during what became the last year of his life.

There was definitely purpose for the car. Just not what I expected. Very often I hear people say, “This is not the life I expected.” Or as I heard last week from someone, “This is not the life I want.” Well, the last three years certainly haven’t been what I expected, and if you had asked me, they were not what I would have wanted, but the fact is they were going to happen, and while I associate that car with a lot of losses, I also associate it with lunches and conversations with my brother that I had prayed for for over 20 years. I associate it with trips to Oklahoma to sit with my aunt and uncle and talk and laugh and hug. I associate it with the surprise of two babies my friends didn’t know they needed or wanted either, but gracious, they did. 

My point being, I’ve cried a few times this week as I passed 5 months with my brother being gone, cleaning out my car, and my phone not getting texts from my friend. Sadness has ambled through regularly, but so has joy. So has so much gratitude. So has laughter remembering people I’ve been gifted with. So has a lot of introspection that was so very needed. Instead of being mad about what isn’t, I am so incredibly grateful for what was. I am grateful for every second with those beautiful people. I’m grateful for the road trips, the music, the sand in my car. I’m grateful for the life God filled with so much treasure. 

Really, that is it. I have spent time not seeing the last 5 months as a series of losses but seeing my life as a treasure box that has been filled with priceless people and experiences. I think it is easy to question God or be angry at him for what he “takes away” (although death was never his idea), and we lose the joy of knowing our lives are the treasure rooms he filled. 

So today, I’m a bit weepy, and I miss Patton and I miss Raymond and I really need a road trip. LOL 

But, I am also so incredibly grateful for the treasure room life God has so generously given me. 

Crazy how sadness, joy, and gratitude can all commingle in the same space at once, but it is also wildly beautiful.

I hope you can see your life as a treasure room, too. 

Blessed,
Jerri