Just Yesterday and Forever

The human heart is a funny thing-always working hard to protect itself from grievous injury yet prone to exactly what it tries to prevent.

I honestly believe that one of the gifts of early grief is disbelief.  Because if I could have understood at once what it meant that Dominic was really, truly GONE, I would have never lasted the first 24 hours.

Even now, going on five years, my head plays games with my heart.

Missing my son is very much like bringing him home except in reverse.

I don’t know about you, but each child added to our quiver slipped in and seemed like he had always been there.  It was nearly impossible to remember life before he joined us.  I knew, as a matter of FACT, that months and even years had passed without him there, but it was so natural, so beautiful, so perfect now that he was here, the before faded in the background of the after.

It’s much the same way now that he’s gone.  

Nature abhors a vacuum and so does the human mind and heart.  The spaces I was able to keep sacred to Dominic’s memory (or maybe because some part of my heart held out hope he’d return) are slowly being filled in by people and events and things that he’s never met, participated in or touched.  They crowd out the Sacred Spaces I have worked hard to maintain.

And bit by bit it’s as if it’s always been THIS way.  

Only it hasn’t.  

I’m not forgetting my son.  That will NEVER happen.  But I am losing the daily pathways that once helped me trace his fingerprints on my life, my belongings and my heart.  

And that makes me sad.  

I’m trying hard to find new ways to keep him current, part of everyday conversation, events and gatherings.  I want his name mentioned as naturally as that of my other children.  I want the funny things he used to do remembered and recounted.  I want my oldest son’s child to know Uncle Dominic as well as his or her other aunts and uncles.

There are still moments, days and even a week here and there, when it feels like only yesterday that Dominic left for Heaven.  The pain is as fresh, as intense, as unbelievable as it was when I got the news. 

That shocks me every time.  

But most days I’m digging deep to tap old memories, working hard to weave his story into our ongoing story and looking for ways to keep his legacy alive for the generation to come.  

Time is a funny thing.

Yesterday AND forever.  

 

 

 

All The Glory on the Ground

Fall doesn’t last long here in Alabama.  

We have summer right through September most years and even into October on occasion.

This year was even shorter-hot, hot, hot, hot, cold!

But no matter how long or short the temperate days I have two or three trees I look for when the cold nights work their magic and the leaves turn bright.

I know I have to drink in their beauty as much as possible because it won’t last for more than a week.  And that makes it all the more precious to me.

So I don’t rush by as I’m wont to other times of year.  I slow down as I round the curve and gasp again at translucent gold lit bright against a pale blue sky. 

yellow ginkgo tree

One, two, three passes and then one day they’re gone. 

A windy rain knocked every one to the earth.  

All the glory on the ground.  

And my heart notes once again that nothing in this life is forever.

Even the most beautiful and highly treasured things will fade and fall.

People too. 

So don’t rush by. 

Slow down and drink in the glory of family around the table, coffee with a friend, walks in your neighborhood, cuddles with the kids, hot chocolate around a campfire or the kitchen stove.  

Nothing in this life is forever.  

time with those you love

Can’t Change Time

Every spring and every fall we dutifully make the rounds to our clocks and digital devices, putting them first forward an hour and then back in an attempt to make the days “longer”.

As if time was in our hands.

The sun rises and sets according to the Creator’s schedule, we can neither speed the world’s turning, nor slow it down.

We can only choose whether to be present in the moments He grants us.

Read the rest here:  Time Change

 

I’d Still Choose You

Some of us only felt tiny hands and feet pressing against the inside of our body.  

Some of us saw first steps or first grade.  

Some of us watched our child drive away to college certain it was the beginning of an adventure, not the beginning of the end.

Some of us have grandchildren reflecting back a smile or gesture or tone of voice that it so much like the one we miss.

All of us know what it is to lose more than any heart can bear-and yet we DO bear it-every. single. day.

None of us would give up whatever time we had even knowing how hard it is to go on without them.  ❤

even knowing id still choose you

Picking Up The Threads

Life after child loss can be described in various ways.

But any that ring true convey a sense that in an instant, everything is different, shattered, scattered, obliterated, changed.

I like this quote by Tolkien:

how do you pick up threads of an old life frodo at desk

It’s the threads, the shards, the broken bits that I will spend a lifetime trying to gather, save and weave or glue back together.

It will never be what it was, but it can still be something.  

I will always carry the scars.

The scars are proof of my love.  

it has been said that time heals all wounds rose kennedy clock

One Day at a Time

A friend who is now battling a new challenge in addition to child loss posted this on her Facebook timeline:

You’re not going to master the rest of your life in one day.  Just relax. 

Master the day. 

Then just keep doing that every day.

I LOVE it!  And it reminded me of this quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson that has been on my refrigerator for years:  

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

Truth is, no matter how much we may TRY to live life in weeks or months or years, we really are only able to live it one day at a time.

And as Jesus said over 2000 years ago:  “Don’t worry at all then about tomorrow. Tomorrow can take care of itself! One day’s trouble is enough for one day.” (Matthew 6:34)

If I never knew it before, I know it now. 

I am good for a single 24 hour period-one revolution of the earth. 

That’s it.  

Sure I put stuff on my calendar.  I have to.  But I never take it for granted.  I never assume that what I think is going to happen next week really will happen next week.

I know better.  

And I’ve also learned there is absolutely NO use in worrying about what MIGHT happen.  Because worrying does not rob tomorrow of its problems, it only robs today of its joys.  

corrie-ten-boom-empties-today-of-strength

So I work each day to do THAT day.  I make it the most productive, most love-filled and life-giving day I can.  

I go to bed satisfied that I’ve done my best.  

Get up the next sunrise and do it again. 

One day at a time.

not going to master your life in one day

Let it Rain

In a hurry, in a hurry.

That describes most of us these days, doesn’t it?

Always looking for the fastest way around the clogged intersection, the highway construction or the long line waiting to get a coffee at Starbucks.

But there are some things we can’t rush along.

Grief is one of them.

no timetable for grief

There are no shortcuts, no detours in this Valley of the Shadow of Death.

We long for a way to hasten past the deep, dark nights of sorrow and pain. 

We beg God and anyone who will listen to show us the quickest route out of the miry pit of misery and missing.

It doesn’t exist.  

Grief, like love, takes time.  

let it rain