My wife had surgery last Monday. She’s doing well, thank you. But there were a few moments when I felt a bit shaky, worried, and anxious. The reports from the doctors were mostly positive and reassuring, except one. The details of that are not important here. What IS important is that I found myself slipping back into that sense of uncertainty and fear that I knew all too well from my early days in my grief journey. I was feeling anything but secure. Linda is home now and sleeping in her own bed. Still, the memories of my grief and all the insecurity it can bring lingered with me for a few days.

Then something happened when I was tending to Linda’s needs. “Mark, would you bring me a cup of coffee – in my mother’s mug?” And of course, I did.

Her mom’s mug is special, about half the size of a normal coffee cup. More like you’d get at an old diner. It was her mom’s coffee cup, and the connection Linda has with that cup tethers her to her mom when she is feeling a bit insecure or maybe just sad. It brings her comfort and peace, fueled by the beautiful memories of she and her mom throughout her life. It makes her feel secure.

The night before Linda was to return home from the hospital I, too, found myself anxious and restless. I couldn’t sleep. My mind was reeling. You know the feeling. Foggy brain, forgetfulness, confusion…

That was me. So, feeling I needed a ‘hug’ I reached over and pulled my son’s Teddy Bear close, in a strong hug. (He took it with him to college and his roommates photographed him sleeping with it as a joke.) Well, immediately I felt Adam’s presence, his essence in the bear. My memories of Adam flooded in, bathing me in comfort, peace and even a bit of delight (remembering his sparkling humor).

Not unlike Linda’s mom’s coffee mug with all its history and treasured memories, Adam’s Teddy Bear comforted me in the night as I lay awake, thinking about Linda in the hospital. I felt more secure, more at peace.