July 14, 2014 will forever be marked down in our history as the day that changed everything - literally.
It marked a new process, one that has so dramatically turned our world upside down.
Some days I feel lost. I wonder around feeling like I should be doing something but find the what to be evasive.
Some days I feel angry. If God is a God of love then why must He dish out a pain so deep it threatens our very existence? And why couldn't he take someone who was old and had lived their life or at least taken someone who was not so loved? I mean that makes sense right? So many people live in secluded alone-ness not knowing anyone who truly loves them. We lavished love on Abby. She was our spark and kept laughter in our home. Why her?
Some days I feel nothing. I look into the mirror and the woman who stares back at me is just a shell with a vacant empty despair. I don't know who she is. I can't remember simple things like my passwords used to place orders or where I left my shoes. Then I feel like I am in a bad nightmare and that if I can just truly wake up then life will be right again and I won't have a stuffy head from the constant weeping.
Some days I wonder how this process called grief really works. "O it's just a part of it" they say. You're reacting normally. What's normal about grief? Absolutely nothing. My list mindset goes absolutely bonkers - there is nothing I can check off except for the fact that I took another breath that maybe didn't hurt quite as deeply as the one before. I took another step by simply telling my feet exactly how they need to work..one in front of the other. Lowell works and it helps him cope. For me, I get irritated when people tell me I should get on with life and get back to work so I don't have to sit around and think about this all. Quite frankly even the thought exhausts me. I am tired all the time and can barely keep up with the necessary things of daily life. It confuses me though. My clients and work have always been a joy and something I look forward to. Maybe someday normal will reign again....
Some days as I wonder around the store trying to get my bearings together, I find myself pondering if everyone knows I am in the grief process? Maybe I should wear a sign. I find myself crying as I tell total strangers how I just buried my baby. Most are wonderful and I end up with hugs which help most days.
Some days I worry about my precious very alive children and how in the world I am ever going to help them "process" correctly when I can't even "process" myself? Alexia hasn't touched the barbie dolls and pollypockets her and Abby always played with daily. She told me the other night "Mama, I just need Abby to come play barbie with me". Hunter seems to be ok most of the time but recently told me that even tho I tell him it wasn't his fault that he still thinks it is because Abby asked him for a floatie and he didn't get it for her. Kali still can't sleep in her bed because she shared it with Abby. Last night was the first time she didn't cry herself to sleep in many nights. Her usual question before she drifts off is "mama why can't we just go to Heaven too?" My main answer is usually "because God still has work for us here precious one". In my heart, I know He does but man, this grief stuff really stinks.
Some days I wonder about what is really important and what in the world God is trying to teach me. I have always avoided the subject of death, simply finding it to morbid and not really ever focusing on it. Since spring of this year, death, terminal illness and sadness seem to envelop my small existence. My Grandmother died and tho I know she hasn't really "been here" over the last several year and the fact is that we actually celebrated the fact that she could go on, it is still the final page of a chapter of our lives. Just a few weeks before Abby died, my dear friend Jan was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. She has been a faithful prayer partner and friend. I know she is ready to see Jesus but I am irritated that it is her that has been chosen for the process. I need her yet. Why are the things most dear to me being taken away? Some days it makes me scared to love...
What ties this mumble jumble process together? God's love. It's as simple as that. He loved Abby so much that He knew she would be better off with him. And hey, with the condition of the world and all the dangers and evil it really seriously isn't that bad of an idea. Some days I question how He could really love us and allow this to happen to us. But He is showing love to us left here too. He has surrounded us with praying saints who have shared with us how they wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep and spend that time praying...for us! He takes care of physical needs in ways that blow our minds. He also blesses us with promises of hope and the reality of the fact that we can go to be with Abby.
Our life is not a series of meaningless events that make up our existence but is carefully orchestrated and planned by God to bring glory to His name. I have always enjoyed writing and blogging but never really got anywhere with it specifically. The past 2 weeks have increased traffic to my work in ways I never dreamed. People who wouldn't ordinarily have any connection have happened by over 50,000 times. It isn't about me but about that work that God wants to do through Abby's life and her death. I have a platform to share Jesus and his love. Even though some days I shake my fist at Him and scream why, I am truly awed and humbled that God chose me to be a part of the process.
Be patient with yourself, and be good to yourself. No one should tell you how to grieve. There is no template for that. You will find a "new" normal some day. Time is a four-letter word, unfortunately.
ReplyDeleteDear Dorothy,
ReplyDeleteWe think of you every day. I relate to your frustration with grief. My mother in law died of breast cancer and grieving her was one of the most bizarre experiences of my entire life. There is no normal. I know you have much support, but a grief-specific support group may actually help.
Please get in touch with us if there's anything we can do.
All our love,
the Amblers