Two months ago today we faced the most difficult day of our lives. We said "So long, until we meet again, sweet baby Jeremy. Go along sweet baby, grab ahold of Jesus' hand and don't look back. You're going to a better place. A place where you won't be sick any more. No more medicine. No more surgeries. No more ventilator. No more pain Jeremy. Mommy wants to hold you forever but I can't little one. I have just this moment to feel your heart beat against mine. This very moment that I have longed for, for so many days now. I know in my soul that I will see you again. We will be together someday, so it is not goodbye. I love you forever and ever, and always." I remember that moment vividly.
Many parents describe the initial time after a child passes as a time filled with a numbness, anesthesia if you will. You are so numb that you really don't remember the details or feel the intense pain. You are walking around with your heart in shock. Every day is filled with disbelief that something so tragic could really happen. Well it did and the anesthesia and numbness has worn off. The pain has set in and grabbed a tight hold on my heart. I remember everything! My mind replays the moments spent with Jeremy in the hospital over and over and it is all consuming. Some people very close to me have been working tirelessly to help me release the guilt that I feel so strongly. A mother's guilt that I am ultimately responsible for what happened to Jeremy. They make perfect sense but my heart still needs convincing.
I don't recognize myself sometimes. I feel like I am trapped behind a glass barrier watching what once was my life from the outside. Things that I once enjoyed bring little happiness and have little or no meaning anymore. Of course I am referring to things, material, tangible things here on earth, not my precious children. I've been told to keep trying them, eventually they will bring that joy again. In a strange and weird way, this tragedy has brought me to think I am and will be a better person because of it. I feel lost most days. I feel an energy source that belonged to Jeremy. I don't know what to do with that energy. I do know that God is calling me to something, something important and meaningful, I just don't know what it is. Either I am not supposed to know about it yet or I haven't been quiet enough to hear God whisper his direction to me. Scott and I have hopes to use our Jeremy energy and his memory to help others. It is exciting to think all the ways that could happen.
I've been reading a lot of books lately. Books that are not on the New York Times bestseller list. Books that most of you will God willing never read. I have stumbled on the same thought presented more than once. Each time it brings me to my knees in prayer. It goes something like this. Let this really sink in. Beth Moore writes " If God allowed you to be thrown into a pit, you weren't picked on; you were picked out. God entrusted that suffering to you because HE has faith in you. Live up to it. All the way up." I have really needed to be in deep prayer about this. Well first, I don't remember volunteering to be chosen. I didn't want this. I want my beautiful, happy, perfect life back. I HAD everything that I could have ever wanted and then some. I want it back. Just give me what was already mine, nothing more, nothing less. You gave it to me once, just give it back.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. He did choose me, he chose Jeremy, he chose Scott, etc. I know all of this will make sense one day. God does not make mistakes. He does know what he is doing even if I don't. He will help me and sustain me. I can just feel that he has something up his sleeve for me. Something great. Sometimes I feel guilty for fighting that calling because all I really want is my son back. Then I also feel a need to get out my umbrella. Jesus, bring the rain, bring whatever it is that brings you glory. I trust you and your plan for my life. You already have this worked out. You are good all the time. You have my Jeremy and he is okay. He is happy and content in your loving embrace. You left me here to fulfill my purpose. I need to live a life full of purpose to bring you glory. I have a choice."
Many people have commented that they haven't seen us out much. We're out, but there is strategy involved. I thank everyone that has continued to reach out to us. Your efforts to show such compassion and thoughtfulness continues to be greatly appreciated. Thank you for loving me as I evolve into a new person. A mom who is trying to be the best parent I can to three precious children here on earth and learning to live with one in heaven. You continue to make such a difference in our lives. I am so consumed with Jeremy and missing him so much that I forget even the simplest things. My patience is tested every day. Then, when I forget something, it's even more frustrating. I also seem to have trouble completing even the simplest of everyday tasks. I worry what the school year will bring when even more order and routine are demanded of us. I just hope and pray that in some ways that structure and routine will provide healing for us too.
So I am okay for someone who is not okay.
2 comments:
"I am okay for someone who is not okay" - I am amazed at the way you can find words for feelings that are so difficult to express....
still reading... still cheering for you and your family.... still missing Jeremy.... love always, rick
Thinking of you, and praying for you...knowing you're in the best of hands. Crying with you, and sending the best of wishes. You have taught the kids well, seeing these photos of them praying, and connecting with Jeremy is very touching. God Bless you and your loved ones, near and far :)
--Karen Riesett and family
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