GRIEF MATTERS

A SPECIAL DAY

I talked to Brooklyn on May 10th.  She returned my call from May 8th.  She asked me right off, "Mimi, did you remember that the other day when you called was a special day?"  It was the day her daddy died 3 years ago.

"Yes, baby.  I remembered."

"Good."

"Did you remember?"

"Yes."

"Were you sad?"

"No."

"Good, because daddy wouldn't want you to feel sad.  He'd want you to be happy today.  Because he loves you very very much."

"Yeah."

And then we went on to discuss the joys of her life, passing classes with flying colors, enjoying her new room in her new house.  Little things.

May 8th.  Brooklyn calls it a "special day".  It's a day she finds important to remember.  A day that changed her life forever.  As time passes, we each find ways of coping with our losses.  Life moves on while death lingers in the shadows of yesterday.  We carry with us memories of love, happiness and joy; they mingle with our present and give us peace.

I don't miss you any less, my son.  In fact, I think I miss you more.  But I am comforted by all you were to me while you were here.  Sometimes I get scared because I'm afraid I'll forget how you looked, or sounded.  But it's these times God brings to mind a particular expression, a scene that captures your essence and a word you spoke so long ago.  And I smile for a while.  I love you, Mom.

TEARS OF EMPATHY

With tears of empathy for the family who loses a loved-one, I write:

The excruciating pain you feel today is beyond explanation.  To say you "will feel better in time" is like adding salt to an open wound.  Time?  What is time?  It is now.  Now is the only time you know.  This moment seems like an eternity.  You ask, "Can I survive it?"  It feels as though you won't.  Even after your loved one has been lain to rest, your heart feels as though it may explode with the agony filling the void within you.

My heart cries out for God's unfailing mercy and grace to be upon you in your grief.  You will need His comfort to sustain you to simply breathe...to take another step...to drink and eat with normalcy.  For what are those things in this, so seemingly senseless loss?  Normal no longer exists.  It's gone.  Few who have loved deeply and lost can feel anything but the void of the loss.  Loss sucks the life out of you; it drains you.

There is a quiet place in the heart of God to rest for those who suffer much in this life. And only those who suffer much find entrance to that room in God's heart. It is the way of things. I would not seek to give anyone that key. But God in His infinite wisdom and grace, knows who best can benefit from the resting place and offer comfort to others from the strength and comfort they gain in that room.
 
Since my son's death, I've learned that many of his prayers have been fulfilled. I've watched as God worked and works in the hearts of those my son loved and cared for. I've found a peace in God only He could impart. I wish that I hadn't had to learn so many of life lessons as a result of my son's death. I wish my son could be here to see the breadth of my growth, the depth my trust, the abundance of joy in his children. But that was not in God's plan.

I do not understand if my son died to bring about these things or if my son's dying brought about the things that would have eventually happened.  I struggled with those whys for years. Today I am able to simply rest in God's sovereignty and know He brought my son home for His reasons and mine is not to wonder why any longer.

God bless you if you are suffering today.  God bless you if you find yourself inside that room and have no idea why you've entered.  My sincere love goes out to you.  selahV