Pages

Monday, January 02, 2012

Lamentations

I go back to work tomorrow. I have thank you cards yet to write and I can't get myself motivated to do them. There has been so much kindness and thoughtfulness and I am very grateful, but I still feel a bit lost in the wilderness and can't get myself to sit down and write those notes. I'm embarrassed that I have not done them yet.

There are things I need to get done and worked out at work before I can schedule my second surgery.

I'd really like to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide for another month or two.

This is not the shape in which I thought I'd be entering into 2012. No, it's not.

I know things will get better, or easier, or both, but right now things are tough.


It snowed the night before he died. This is the last text I received from him, with the simple caption of "snowman", as if I couldn't figure it out! Earlier, he'd told me he liked it up there and he was learning a lot.

It takes a lot for me to leave that cigarette in the snowman's mouth. It is a painful, embarrassing (and now public) reminder of lifestyle choices he made that I would never have approved of, choices that were way off the track of the things I had dreamed for him. But, on the other hand, he was so much more than just the painful, embarrassing and public crummy choices he made.

He had friends who loved him so much and who will miss him, friends who spoke of his good and kind heart, friends who could not save him, just like his mother couldn't save him. And he leaves the biggest, fattest hole in all our hearts.

I am grateful for my faith, that tells me he is at peace, that tells me there is hope for those of us who are continuing our journeys without him, grateful for healing that will come, though there will be scars.

Yesterday in church, we heard of another family who lost their son under similar circumstances. Such sadness. And another family was there with a son-in-law who has been in rehab and was out on a visitation pass. Such hope. I thought of all us mothers and family members who have such hopes and dreams for their sons and loved ones. Life can be such a bittersweet experience.

8 comments:

  1. I hurt for you. I realize this in no way removes any of your hurt. I do anyway. That snowman. It plucks at my heart.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love the snowman- cigarette and all. :) Give yourself space and time my friend. There is no pressure to write those cards out or think you should be doing some thing you aren't or haven't. Grief doesn't keep a time schedule. For lack of better wording, just roll with it. In my mind and heart, there couldn't be a greater loss than losing a child.
    Makes my heart hurt.

    In time you will remember all the blessings, remember that he lived, not that he died. That gift of memory is such a blessing that God gives us. My heart aches thinking about you having to go through this, it's one of those things we wish we could do for others and we can't. But we can stand by and be present. And just give you lots of love and peace.
    I keep you in my prayers every day. xoxo hugs

    ReplyDelete
  3. Keep hanging on, Diane. You seem to be handling things with grace - cards or no cards. :)

    Will be thinking about you this week.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thanks, y'all! One day at a time, sweet Jesus...

    ReplyDelete
  5. Annie, in the midst of all of your pain and loss, you find the words to offer consolation to me. So very thoughtful and kind you are - I have been out of the loop. Blessings to you and my heart goes out to you.

    ReplyDelete
  6. This whole thing makes my head spin. But that snowman and all of us bear witness. I hope your week was ok.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Cathy, it helps my pain and loss to offer condolences to others in their pain and loss. God's grace helps both of us through our loss. And I am grateful.

    Patti, thank you. I am grateful to you for "bearing witness" even as you walk through your own tough mile at this time.

    ReplyDelete

Don't just sit there staring, say something!