Searching for Sarah

Seven years have gone by since Sarah died on March 23, 2019. Seven years is a strange in-between. Grief is no longer raw. I’m not in the fog anymore. There’s been real healing. A sense that life has found that “new normal” so often talked about among the grief community. Life has continued forward in beautiful new ways.

And yet, I’m still searching for Sarah. Looking for her in the sunrise, the Folgers 1850 coffee she had every morning, and the way she made scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Longing to hear about the next adventure she had planned and the life she was building for herself. Aching to spend time together and laugh about silly inside jokes. Wondering if she’d be married, how many children she’d have, and whether one might be on the way. Yearning for us to grow old together.

Seven years have gone by, and I’m reminded that the search will never end. Sometimes it becomes a connection to Sarah— a quiet, calm assurance that she is not forgotten. Other times, it’s crushing and riveting, like being caught beneath a powerful ocean wave. And when I surface above the merciless sea, Sarah is nowhere in sight.

I’m headed to Huntsville, Alabama today for a work trip. I’ll be about 3 hours south of Knoxville, Tennessee – where Sarah was living. I traveled to Huntsville this exact week last year. I remember thoroughly enjoying my trip there because I felt closer to Sarah. I imagined Sarah and me meeting up halfway between Huntsville and Knoxville. What a joy it would have been to spend time together. She’d quickly turn my mundane work trip into a fun adventure.

But I’m left to only imagine what could have been as I embark on today’s trip. I’m not alone on this journey, though. I’m joined by those who have also lost a loved one. For some, the search has just begun. For others, it has been decades. As for me, I’m in the in-between as I continue searching for Sarah.

P.S. The sun-over-the-lake photo is one that I took during my trip to Huntsville last year. Sarah would have loved that spot.