Who would have thought that May 13th 2007 would be as eventful as it was? Two years ago on Friday the 13th, we laid my son to rest in a little country cemetery about two miles from my house. I was dreading the day for that fact, and the fact that the 13th fell on Mother's Day instead of superstitious Friday. I never dreamed the Lord would allow my husband to have a heart attack this year. But He did.
My husband is "the picture of health", people say. What they don't know is how tired that picture was each night at the setting of the sun and the rising of the same. No matter how much rest he got, he was still tired. He's good at hiding how he really feels. This will make it even harder for me to tell the damage done to his heart. He goes when he should stop. He pushes himself long after he should let go and relax. He's always been this way.
So what does this have to do with grief? I'm not sure. I just know that my mind has been diverted from what happened two years ago, to what could have happened this year--and the miraculous gift of celebration brought to my life that dulled my grief for awhile.
Did I forget about my son? Not for a second. In fact my mind lingered on the reality of his death all the more. The moment I signed my husband into the emergency room Mother's Day morning was the estimated time of death of my son two years earlier. When I wrote in the time, my heart pulsed harder and for a moment I wondered if another Mother's Day would bring another tragedy. Another attack on my heart.
My heart was at peace. But I wasn't sure if God's grace was covering me for the inevitable tragedy to come, or the possible intervention of His mercy. Today I know. And I am grateful for His mercy. selahV
[photo taken with pink Princess Crown pillow our 5-year-old Abby gave Papa to rest his head. And the Spiderman Pillow our 9 year-old granddaughter, Brooklyn gave Papa to hold as he coughed. the pillows were the talk of the hospital.]
