This week we started the ordering process for Amanda's headstone for her grave.
........
Yeah, that's how I felt. Not only could I not believe that we were actually sitting there, picking out a headstone, but putting it down in words is more painful than I imagined it would be. No parent should go through this.
The hits keep coming.
What a week this has been. Every "first" simply hurts, and the list of firsts that we will face in the days and years to come is daunting. The thing is, thankfully, I do have moments of normalcy. Moments where life goes on, and I begin to feel like things are going to be okay. And then there are those moments that I remember and it hits me like a brick. Wait a minute, Amanda's gone. And something as simple as a thought like that can bring on the waterfall. How in the world do you take another step knowing that a part of you is just......gone. It doesn't take more than a single thought to completely unravel any amount of composure that I had foolishly thought I had. I do have to say, sometimes it is not a total meltdown, sometimes it feels more like a slow crumble.....I don't know which one is worse. I will also say, I don't walk around like a total mess all the time. Sometimes that crumbling is happening on the inside and I have learned how to cover it. With life ruthlessly going on, there is no other choice than to learn how to, at times, hide/cope/handle those emotions and move forward. Have no fear, I have no trouble facing them and letting them out. Crying is very therapeutic for me.
The funny thing is, I'm alright with that at this point. Grief hurts, it's not pretty, and the part that really stinks is that there is no timeline for it. (There goes my control side, wanting a time line or something) I know life will never be the same. There will always be that piece of Amanda missing in my life, and it is not a small piece. I know one day I will learn to live life in a way that will feel like a new normal, but that day feels very far away. And I find comfort in God's word and know that there is a bigger work going on in this refining process than I can see right now:
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who
comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort
those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we
ourselves are comforted by God.
Any normal I may have or find is focusing my attention on my boys, most importantly, Brandon. I have to make sure that he is doing well. That he is able to learn to cope with this loss and despite it, still live his life to glorify God even though we don't understand God's plan at this point in our lives. Being a mom has taken on a extremely new challenge and I am so thankful that God has given me Thomas to help lead us in this painful journey.. We continue to balance out each other (and let's be honest here, we sometimes clash) with our differences, but we come together in our strengths and stand firm on our foundation.
John 15:5
I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.
So as I struggle in my day to day life, trying to learn a new "normal," I have a new desire to make sure every day counts. Some days that is simply taking care of my family. Other days it is sharing Amanda's story with someone, and stressing the importance of taking your faith seriously in our limited time here in this life. Yet there are also those days it is merely putting one foot in front of the other and focusing on taking each breath.
The exhausting part is that each day it is merely a question of which day it will be.....and knowing that it can change at any time.
2 Corinthians 4:7-9; 16-18
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair;persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as
we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are
unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that
are unseen are eternal.
Your family's faith is such an inspiration to so many. I pray that God continues to lift your family and give you all peace in this difficult time.
ReplyDeleteIt's the little things in life that make the difference in all that we do and remember. For me it was finding a tiny pair of baby socks tucked underneath the bed or my milk coming in and not having a baby to feed...the things that you don't really expect and then they hit you in the heart all at once. Hang in there, Sandy. Grief is ugly at times, but it's also a beautiful reminder of God's grace and mercy as He walks with you (and sometimes carries you) through these days. There will come a day (although it doesn't seem like it now) when you can remember and the hurt is not as strong and there will be days when you can smile at the memories. God has a way of creating simple and sweet blessings, even in the midst of the storm.
ReplyDeleteMeredith is right. Having lost a husband at a young age rather than a child I understand your grief. It stemmed that the days that I though would be difficult I actually got through those fairly easy. It was those unexpected moments that knocked my feet out from under me. I did my crying in the shower so I could pretend I was moving along ok. Grief can be different for everyone. My Grief Coordinator told me to move at my pace not the pace that other people thought I should be moving at. As you I felt as if half of my body was missing and that is still true 17 years later. But I can look back now at my journey and see Gods Grace carrying me. I pray for you, Tom and Brandon every day!
ReplyDeleteOne day at a time...I am praying for ya'll
ReplyDeleteA friend shared your blog with me about a week ago and I told her that the hardest part of reading it was knowing that the worst isn't over. Our daughter passed last October...almost a year and there are still "firsts" (we had her first birthday earlier this month). My heart groans with yours. There are so many "normal" times now- smiles, even real happiness. I am so glad to know you have true joy despite the circumstances. It wasn't until her birthday, nearly 10 months after her death that I first got really truly angry. One day, one step, one breath at a time.
ReplyDelete