There is grief, and there is Grief. One is a wet, heavy blanket on the chest, the other a torrent of uncried oceans. One we can walk around with unseen, the other stops us in our tracks and exposes us to the raw force of mortality.

Grief makes us helpless. We become like little children who wake in the middle of the night, alone in an empty house. Terrified, we may search the house to see if someone is there to comfort us. We rebel and rage when we come up empty-handed, with nothing but grief to wear and the wild and ragged weave of its maker.

We fear Grief. We try to hide from it and run away. But Grief always catches up with us, even if we run for years. When Grief knocks on your door, answer her call. Let her take you wherever she wishes. Let her stop you wherever you are, mid-track.

She doesn’t want you to miss the moment of Grace that often follows in her wake.

I was on a walk to the store. While I usually drive, I decided to walk that day. Maybe I wanted the exercise. Maybe I wanted to feel the earth under my feet. I left the house, started walking, crossed streets, turned corners. Without realizing, I found myself on a street my dog had always enjoyed because of the squirrels. She had just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. I did not tarry. I kept walking, fast, my mind focused on doing my shopping. Milk, eggs, bananas, cheese. Milk, eggs, bananas, cheese.

Suddenly I stopped. A sob welled up in my chest, tears flooded to my eyes. My lungs and ribs started heaving like the sails and planks of a ship in the middle of a stormy ocean. I opened my throat and agreed to Grief’s bidding.

When I was done, I looked up at the sky, mild with early spring benevolence. I resumed walking. I walked slowly. I walked with my eyes to the ground. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. And then I saw it. Something golden right there on the middle of the sidewalk. Another three steps and I recognized it in an instant: a golden gummy bear, Grief’s parting gift, for now.

I felt like breaking out in laughter. There was no way I would have come upon this gummy bear if I had driven to the store and dismissed Grief’s invitation to stop where I did. But I didn’t. I did stop. I grieved. And remembered that life has sweet moments waiting to be discovered.