Grief & Loss Part 2

I never talk about grief in this amount of depth normally because I feel people aren't that interested, but also I feel like it makes people feel uncomfortable or like I'm complaining too much about my problems. I still don't even know really why I feel so compelled to write all this out. Perhaps it's because someone else out there needs to feel heard & know they're not alone in their grief. Or perhaps it's because someone you know is grieving & you don't know how to help them since you might not know what that feels like if you haven't lost someone close to you. So maybe this is for you.

One of the things I find most frustrating & challenging about death is it's mystery. Especially when someone dies “before their time." It's simply not fair & I know that is how life goes most of the time. It's not fair. Perhaps though it's better than we can't understand it though. I don't know, but Lewis also writes “ We cannot understand. The best is perhaps what we understand least.” I think we can go pretty crazy asking that question “why!?!” so maybe he has a good point here. It's hard enough dealing with all the other thoughts & feelings grief brings about in your daily life. To try & solve this grand mystery is maybe just too much for us to ever comprehend. Perhaps, after all it is simply best to sit in silence, rest & be present in that mystery & let God's peace just take over, however long that takes.

The thing I probably struggle with the most is what my husband & children miss out on with these people gone from our lives. We can keep their story alive, but that's it. We can tell them about the amazing people they were & that's all we get to give them. My husband never got to meet my parents. He didn't get to help my dad with some new renovation he was working on. He never got to feel the warmth of the loving household I grew up in. He didn't get to know my mother's love or smile. Just stories of what I remember. And in return, they never got to know this amazing man I'm blessed to call mine. My children will never know the people who raised me. My mom didn't even get to see me become a mom. I couldn't call her when we miscarried our first child & cry to her about the pain & emptiness of your womb no longer carrying life. I didn't get to have her there for the birth of our beautiful daughter.

Then, there's the loss of your husband's mother. The amazing woman who raised him to be the incredible man he is today. The woman I thank God for always, for giving him life & for loving me as a daughter. My heart breaks simply for the fact she was lost to us way too soon. She was not granted physical healing for whatever reason. That she couldn't be here to see her 'petite poune' walk for the first time. For the first of everything. For her first birthday and for all the birthdays to come. I often wonder if Olivia were to see her grandma again today, if she would recognize her. Would she remember those precious moments with her. And if so, how much longer will she remember her for until she won't remember her at all, except for the stories we share with her. I wonder if there's ever been a child who remembers someone from when they were under 12 months old... but then I know that is not reality. It's quite impossible & this breaks me.

Following those heart breaks, there's the heart break of seeing others' who loved that person just as much & watch them continue to try & live each day with strength & relative happiness. My dad used to call me daily to chat after mom passed & it was such a bittersweet memory I get to cherish forever. You could hear his pain, but you could also hear how strong he was being, trying to carry on her legacy of love & joy. I'm grateful I have been witness to such immense strength in so many loved ones who have lived through much suffering as it gives me hope & courage to do the same.