Grief with Hope: Where Sorrow Meets the Ordinary
A year after losing my father, grief still finds me in the most ordinary places. A simple moment becomes both a tear and a smile. As I continue grieving with hope, God has been kind, allowing joy to grow alongside sorrow. This is a personal story of loss, memory, and the hope we have in Christ.
Laura Pelletier
7/8/20264 min read
Grief with Joy
Where Sorrow Meets the Ordinary
For those of us who carry the grief of losing someone we love, reminders of them seem to appear everywhere.
In our homes, on a walk through the park, or in the grocery store. Ordinary things suddenly become reminders of someone who is no longer with us.
As we grieve, there comes a time when those reminders no longer bring only sadness. They can also bring joy.
My father passed away unexpectedly in July of 2025. The grief have I felt losing my father has been deeper than anything I've ever felt in my entire life.
He was my helper, the greatest Grandpa, the person I called whenever I had questions about my DIYs. If I needed help, he would drive to us at the drop of a hat.
A Father’s Steadfast Love
After Dad passed away, someone kindly told me that perhaps living an hour and a half away would make the loss easier. They meant it with compassion, but I knew my dad too well. He would have gladly driven those miles several times a week just to spend time with us. In fact, he had even talked about moving closer. Distance never would have kept him away from his little girl and his grandbaby, Aliza.
He couldn't fathom the thought of not seeing Aliza and me more than once a week.
I say all this so you know the character of my wonderful father—he was a loving father and an incredible Grandpa.
A Laugh in the Produce Aisle
Today, as I was walking through Walmart, I was reminded of him by something simple and ordinary: the plastic bags in the produce aisle.
My father would laugh at this reference, so I'll give you a peek into why the simple plastic bags brought a smile to my face.
I must have been sixteen or seventeen when I was with my dad at Walmart picking up a few things. We were in the produce aisle when my dad picked up one of those plastic sacks to take produce home. He struggled for a long moment trying to get it open. In frustration, he handed it to me, saying something along the lines of, "Why won't this thing open?" I gently turned the bag around to the other side and opened it in a second. Of course, I had to tease him about how he ignored the large arrows on the bag and the caption that read OPEN HERE.
Now you must understand that a great joy in my father's life was teasing me, and there was no way I was going to pass up this opportunity to give it right back to him.
I giggled while mocking him for his small mistake. And rather than let it go, it became a joke every time he couldn't figure something out—especially if he couldn't open something.
"Wait Dad... are you sure there aren't arrows?" "Don't forget to look for the arrows!" "I am here to find the arrows for you in case you can't find them in your old age."
Even ten years later, I would still mention it from time to time.
Before you feel sorry for my father, please know that he was still "bitter" that I didn't pick his card in an Apples to Apples game when I was ten years old and would bring it up often.😂
The Promise That Gives Hope
It's been a year now since I lost my dear father, and in the grieving process that isn't very long. They say time heals all wounds, but I know that grief doesn't disappear. Rather, memories can become gifts instead of only wounds, and our hope is ultimately in Christ.
Today, a simple plastic produce bag reminded me of my dad. For a moment I missed him deeply. Then I laughed.
That doesn't mean I miss him any less. It means God has been kind enough to let joy grow alongside sorrow.
I know where my Daddy is because his faith was in the finished work of Christ on the cross. Because Jesus died, was buried, and rose again, I know this goodbye is not forever.
My father is in heaven, and one day I will see him again.
As Paul wrote:
1 Thessalonians 4:13–14 (ESV)
"But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep."
I still grieve.
But by God's grace,
I grieve with hope.
And sometimes...
I even grieve with joy.
