A friend at the pool loaned me a book to read. This summer the novels must pass a few criteria:
1. No death or extreme sadness
2. No heavy content material (my brain just can't process any more)
3. A quick page turner
Anyway, I enjoyed the book. The following quote was embedded unexpectedly within the text and it about sums up what I have been feeling lately.
"The initial stages of grief seem to be the worst. But,in some ways it is sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they've missed in your life and in the world. "
I have been feeling pretty low the last few weeks. I haven't been able to pick myself up too well since June when we marked one full year since Jeremy's Angel Day.
The grief is in so many ways is more painful than ever before. Recently I have been informed that the second year is harder. I was relieved to have some experienced grieving parents share this notion with me and to share some of the experiences they had during their second year following the death of their child. I was also feeling a little angry. Why hadn't someone told me this before? For weeks I had been walking around feeling so sad, so lonely, so depressed, and so frustrated that things seemed so bad,despite all of the hard work that I thought I was doing to survive life on this earth without Jeremy. For one thing, I did not do a good job of reaching out for help. After some more thought, I realized that I wouldn't have been able to hear those words one year ago. The journey would have seemed too long. I may not have made it to this point. The emotional numbness has fully worn off now. The true reality of our loss is settling into me and I am settling into it. It is not an easy place to be.
I will forge ahead keeping my eyes fixed to the cross and not to the long winding roads left to travel. Perhaps it is me getting too far ahead of myself, instead of being content to walk each day where He leads me. He gives me my strength one day at a time for now. My prayer from my heart is that I can find peace and comfort there with Him.
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3 comments:
You are homesick, sweet Amy. Heartsick for your precious son. Lonesome for him to be in your arms. What you feel is completely understandable, completely normal, yet completely hard to handle.
Years ago, when I was only 8 years old, my mom's brother died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 38. I don't remember much about any of that time, but the one thing I do remember is the pain I could feel through my grandmother's tears. She had lost her son, her firstborn, her beloved child. She ached so much for him year after year and I always wondered, "when will she be over this?" My answer came....not 1 year later...not 2 years later...but 20 years later. I had the blessing of having my grandmother live with us in her final year of life, before she passed away last July. In that time, I was able to spend a lot of time with her, learning more about this woman who had spent years of my life miles away. What I learned about that loss she suffered, opened my eyes to the true meaning of what we are living for. See, my grandmother found so much joy in life. She lived to see the life in her children, her children's children, and even her great grandchildren. Simply watching the children play and learn simple things was what made her smile. But I also learned it was what gave her the motivation to make it through each day after losing her son. That pain she felt after losing him did change over time, changed her over time. However, she made it very clear to me that it never ever went away. She still longed for him, hurt for him, wished for him. What this made her do, in turn, was to strive to reach the goal that her Father had in store for her. The prize of living in eternity with her Heavenly Father was a goal unlike any other she reached for. Even though the pain of losing David was so overwhelming to her at first, she learned to walk through each day, live through each moment, and find joy in whatever she could.
The day the answer came to me for the question, "when will she be over this?", was the day she finally breathed her last. It was in that moment, as I stood by her bedside in the hospital and literally watched her breathe her final breath. That moment was when God said very clearly to me, "Julie, her pain is gone. She is free." I smiled for her as I pictured her walking into those pearly gates of Heaven where her husband of 60 years waited with their first born son. "I have so much to tell you!" I could almost here her gush to him! I imagine she is still filling his ears with the joyous stories of his son's life and his grandson's life.
The pain may be here, it may not go away completely, sweet one. Yet it is simply the way our Father keeps us longing for home, longing for Him! He doesn't want us so perfectly comfortable here that we will miss THIS life....He wants us to long for more. He wants us to strive for Him, for His life, for His glory. Those are the things worth living for. He knows this life hurts for you, sweet fighter. As one of the songs on your playlist says, "How great the pain of searing loss, the Father turns His face away." He does not wish for you to live this pain, to feel this hurt, to suffer the loss you have suffered. Yet, He does want you to be reminded that no matter how hard each day is, it is but a breath compared to the eternity we will spend with Him. This may not offer much comfort right now, but my prayer is that it will help you get through today. Tomorrow, I pray you will find the words of encouragement that you need to get your through that day. And so on and so forth....each day your cup is filled. Each day the manna is enough for what you need.
He is your portion, dear one. Find your rest in His arms!
Praying for you!
Julie
In Christ you are in His way. I am so proud of all that you are to so many. Find your acts of self kindness...learn to find the way to take His path and learn to fall on Him as you face the cross. You are so good to so many. Thank you for inspiring us to find Grace in His glory. XOOX
Angie, Chuck, Gabbi and Maddi
Oh, Amy. Know of my prayers tonight.
Tara
Owingsville, KY
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