One of the reasons I write is to share my grief experience with others.
I realized when tossed into the ocean of sorrow that of all the things I had heard about or read about, surviving child loss was never mentioned.
Read the rest here: Silence Doesn’t Serve Anyone Well
That place where you hung your jacket, tossed your shoes, left your backpack-it’s still here.
Foolish, really, to hold space for someone who will never need it again.
But it belongs to YOU and leaving it bare means that it is still yours.
And it is- Still. Yours.
Just like the end chair at the dining room table-the one you fought over as a teen when you and your brothers would pick at and elbow each other until I finally had enough and moved you there.
No one sits there now.
Who could ever fill it?
Upstairs bookcases hold notebooks, text books and random memorabilia from your trips abroad and trips around the country.
Small testimony to a large life. Little reminders of a huge presence.
Sacred spaces-set apart from everyday use-for the purpose of holding memories,
keeping you with us.
The most sacred, most intimate-the space in my heart-where you burrowed in before you were born. Where you left your rhythm and laugh and a giant hole. As near as my breath, as far away as the stars.
I refuse to fill them in,
to let them go,
to allow the creep of daily life to erase your stamp on who I am and who you are.
The emptiness speaks volumes.
I won’t silence it.
Busy, busy, busy and noisy, noisy, noisy.
Every day is full of activity and every minute full of sounds-television, radio, Itunes or Pandora.
I am, at the same time, hyper-connected and dis-connected. My mind is often full but my heart can feel empty.
If I can move fast enough or create sufficient distraction, then maybe I can ignore the harder questions, the deeper thoughts, the uncomfortable feelings that I would rather not explore.
Being in one’s own company alone with God is challenging. Without the noise of outside distraction I am forced to face my fears and hidden darkness. And in the quiet I find that the easy answers leave me empty and unsatisfied. I must listen carefully for the still, small Voice that whispers comfort.
If I want to hear from God I need to embrace solitude and make space to hear.