Almost three years and here I am-
still on the edge.
On the edge of an anxiety attack.
On the edge of the cliff of deep sorrow and darkness that threatens to swallow every thing bright in my life.
On the edge of giving up and giving in.
On the edge of turning my back on every one and every thing.
On the edge of losing hope.
On the edge of deciding that this fight is really not worth it,
that there is nothing left to give,
that I will absolutely never survive this pain and loss.
Some days I manage to take a few steps back.
I might go a week or more and almost forget the edge is there.
And then one conversation will catapult me forward to the brink again.
Shaking, crying, ragged gasping breaths.
Tears.
So. many. tears.
I thought I had run out of tears.
Sometimes sadness is sanity. Tears are the reasonable response. Quickness to shush, shame, or fix them, can reveal a resistance to wisdom.
~Zack Eswine
Share this:
thelifeididntchoose 
Every sentence you wrote is exactly how I am feeling! I don’t know how you do it, but so many times you have written just what I’m feeling. It has been 1 1/2 years since my beautiful son “ran ahead to heaven” (I’m stealing those words from you), and somedays I still feel on the edge. Just like you said, I can have some ok days, and then I’m right back on the edge. Thank you for your beautiful healing words!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Precious Melanie~I have not commented before now, but your powerful and deep words have helped to strengthen me on many days and given words to my pain. I want to say thank you and to let you know I am lifting you to our Father this morning. We lost our amazing 18 year old son Jordan, along with his two best friends, Jon and Joe, in a horrific car accident on June 14, 2014. Three years…I dread that mark. As if our pain couldn’t go any deeper into our bones, the roller coaster of pain and emotions seem to intensify near these marker dates. I pray that our faithful and loving Heavenly Father continues to hold you close. And on those days where the darkness of the valley takes you to a precipitous edge, may He continue to rescue you and pour His healing balm over your broken heart. Much love to you!
LikeLiked by 5 people
Thank you so much Lisa! What a precious gift to have you pray for me. Dominic ran ahead on April 12.2014 so our journeys are close together. Yes, the marker dates are hard. They are harder for me than the holidays. I do feel better today but it’s amazzing how the wind can be knocked out of you and the effect last far longer than you would think. I’m trying to do things that fill my bucket today 🙂 Blessings and love to you as well!
LikeLike
Today my son, Scott, would have been 33. He passed away 5 years & 3 months ago. And I miss him so much. As time passes, I’m on that edge a little less often. But the most unexpected things can catapult me almost over. There’s just no full recovery from the death of a child, short of that heavenly reunion we are looking forward to.
Thank you for sharing your heart and heartache so well. God bless you.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Lisa, I pray that you feel the Father’s arms around you especially today as you remember bringing the gift of your son into this world. You are right, there is just no “full recovery” from the death of a child-no matter how much we may wish for it, how much others may think it possible. I am thankful for the promises that give us hope for a Day when we will be fully healed and our pain completely redeemed. Blessing to you, mama.
LikeLike
Yes. I am exactly there. Today our son would be turning 31; he died 15 months ago at 29. Thank you for sharing, Melanie. Hugs to you 😢
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, Diane! I am so very sorry. May the Father wrap you in His loving arms today and may you feel Him pouring grace and mercy over your broken heart. It is a hard, hard journey. I wish no parent had to make it. Much love, Melanie
LikeLike
Thank you for giving words to my grieving heart, Melanie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hugs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! It’s a better day today.
LikeLiked by 1 person