A song in the grocery store: grief triggers and how to ride the wave

You’re standing in the cereal aisle with a half full cart.

Then a song comes on over the store speakers. The one from your wedding. Or the one your dad always whistled in the garage. Or the one your daughter played so loud in the car you used to beg her to turn it down.

And just like that, you can’t breathe.

Your eyes sting. Your hands grip the cart. You’d been doing okay today. Really okay. And now you’re crying next to the granola, hoping nobody you know comes around the corner.

I wonder how many of us have abandoned a grocery cart because of a song.

If that’s happened to you, I want you to hear this first. You’re not falling apart. You’re not going backward. What you felt in that aisle has a name. Counselors call them grief triggers, and almost everyone who has lost someone they love runs into them. Grief triggers don’t mean you’re going backward.

A trigger is anything that suddenly brings the loss rushing back. A song. A smell. A handwritten grocery list in the junk drawer. A truck like his in the parking lot. The way the light comes through the kitchen window at four in the afternoon.

Some you can see coming, like birthdays and anniversaries. Others come out of nowhere. Those are the ones that knock the wind out of you.

Why grief triggers hit so hard

Here’s something that might help. Your heart remembers more than your mind does.

Love doesn’t just live in your thoughts. It lives in your senses. The smell of his aftershave. The sound of her laugh on the phone. The song that was playing the night everything was still good. When one of those senses gets touched, the whole memory comes flooding back at once, and so does the ache.

What the research shows. The Mayo Clinic says these sudden reactions “aren’t necessarily a setback in the grieving process.” They’re part of it. They can show up around special dates, but also in ordinary places that hold memories. (Mayo Clinic)

So if you’ve been telling yourself you should be past this by now, can I gently push back? A wave in the grocery store isn’t proof that you’re stuck. It’s proof that you loved, and that love is still in you, looking for somewhere to go.

Keep reading: Why can’t I think straight? Understanding grief brain fog

A song about deep waters

There’s a song in the Bible that I think every grieving person should know. It’s Psalm 42.

The man who wrote it was far from home, far from the place of worship he loved. He remembers what life used to be like. He used to lead the crowds up to the house of God, singing, celebrating, surrounded by people.

Now he’s alone. And he says his tears have been his food day and night.

Then he writes a line that sounds like it came from someone standing in the cereal aisle:

“Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.” Psalm 42:7 (ESV)

Breakers and waves.

He doesn’t say the waves came once and then he was fine. He says they’ve gone over him. He knows what it’s like to get knocked down, stand up, and get knocked down again.

That’s how grief works. It comes in waves. Early on they’re huge and close together. Later they spread out. But even years later, a song can bring one crashing in.

And here’s what I love about this psalm. The writer doesn’t pretend. He talks right to his own heart:

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” Psalm 42:5 (ESV)

He names it. He admits the turmoil. And then, in the very same breath, he says, “Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation.”

Notice that word again. He isn’t praising right now. Not yet. But he’s holding on to the hope that he will. That’s not denial. That’s honest faith with tears still on its face.

How to ride the wave

You can’t stop every wave. But you can learn to ride one. Here’s what grief counselors often suggest, in four small moves.

First, name it. Say it quietly to yourself. This is a grief wave. That song was ours. Just naming what’s happening helps your mind catch up with your heart. It’s exactly what the psalmist did when he asked his own soul why it was so troubled.

Second, breathe. Grief makes your breathing shallow and fast. Try this. Breathe in through your nose. Then take one more small sip of air on top of that. Now let it all out, slowly, through your mouth. A 2023 Stanford Medicine study found that people who practiced this kind of breathing, called cyclic sighing, for five minutes a day felt less anxious and more at peace. (Stanford Medicine) In the grocery store, even two or three of those breaths can help.

Third, let it crest. A wave rises, peaks, and falls. Fighting it usually makes it bigger. So let the tears come if they need to. Most waves pass sooner than you’d expect when you stop pushing back.

Fourth, find your feet. When the wave starts to settle, ground yourself in something real and right in front of you. Feel the handle of the cart. Notice three things you can see. Take a sip of water. Then decide your next small step. Maybe it’s finishing your shopping. Maybe it’s going home and coming back tomorrow. Both are okay.

Keep reading: One less stocking: coping with grief during the holidays

You’re not alone in the water

The psalmist wrote one more line I don’t want you to miss:

“By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.” Psalm 42:8 (ESV)

A song is what knocked you down in that aisle. But there’s another song, too. God’s song. And the psalm says it’s with you even at night, when the house is quiet and the waves feel the biggest.

You don’t have to ride the wave well to be loved by Him. You don’t have to stop crying first. Jesus was called a man of sorrows. He knows what deep water feels like from the inside. He doesn’t stand on the shore shouting at you to swim harder. He comes out into the water with you.

And because He rose from the grave, the waves don’t get the last word. Someday they’ll stop for good.

If you’re not sure what you believe about Jesus, you’re still welcome here, questions and all. If you’ve ever wondered what it would mean to know Him personally, I’d love to share more with you here.

Something to try this week

Pick one breath you’ll use the next time a wave hits. Practice it once a day this week, maybe while the coffee brews. In through your nose, a little more, then slowly out.

And if you’d like, borrow this prayer for the next time a song catches you off guard:

Lord, the waves are going over me again. I miss them so much. Hold on to me while this passes, and help me believe I’ll praise You again. Amen.

If the waves are getting bigger instead of smaller over time, or you can’t get through your days, please reach out to your doctor, a grief counselor, or a support group. Asking for help is not a lack of faith. It’s wisdom.

Keep reading: Who am I now? Finding your identity after loss

So about that song in the grocery store. It may catch you again someday. That’s okay. When it does, name it, breathe, let it crest, and find your feet. And remember there’s another song playing too, one that doesn’t stop when the music overhead does.

Blessings,

Pastor Howard