8 years

So how is she, really? I’m sure I’ve had that asked about me a lot, so here goes.

Well, this is the anniversary date. This is the day it ended. And began. Bub’s life here ended. His pain and sickness ended. Our pain at watching our child die ended. But other things began. First and foremost, Bub’s eternity began. God gave me the opportunity to see that bringing Bub to Himself was precious to Him. (Psalm 116:15) I was reading through Psalms in the mornings during this time and that was my morning reading the day after, which would have been the day of, but I skipped that morning because we lost him that morning. *I* could not plan that! It is something I had a hard time comprehending at first, but something I continue to cling to and grasp more fully. Also, our lives began again in a new way. And then there was that pesky thing called grief.

I remember not long afterwards, I was talking to the child life person from the clinic and she was telling me how parents who’ve lost children will say things like “it’s been one year, or it’s been five years and I still….” I wasn’t even thinking that far down the road at that time and yet here we sit 8 years later.

So… back to my original question. We are well. Or fine, or good, or whatever the correct term is. We are also happy. Yes there are days, moments, little episodes that take my breath away and pierce my heart. We experienced them when we went to Disney World. There were little boys evvvverywhere. Several of whom did funny little things our little boy would have done. Sometimes that would make me smile and remember. Other times I would turn away with tears in my eyes. But those are just moments. Sometimes the moments are more prolonged. Birthdays (8/27) and anniversaries (today) are more difficult. The mind tends to want to play out the last days, moments, conversations, snapshots, feelings, experiences… one after another. Like a movie. Except I know the ending, because I was in it. Yes, those moments are hard. Those moments make me feel like my heart is going to break all over again.

But thankfully those moments don’t define me. My day to day life is not centered on grief. We are happy. We laugh. We play. We just have this other piece to our puzzle. But we all have puzzles. Some of the pieces are pretty and fun to finger and put into place and other pieces are rough around the edges and might cause pain when we have to touch them, but they make up the whole. This is something that changed me/us and is a part of who I am today. So in that way it does define me.

But it’s not the only definition of who I am. Just a piece. But this piece has changed my outlook on a lot of things, including my thoughts on eternity and on God and who He is (for the better, I might add). I am constantly amazed and humbled with all that God has done with the rough puzzle pieces. He’s given me the opportunity to walk along side other women in their grief, to share, to write notes of encouragement, and to grieve along side. And to rejoice when the morning comes.

Because it does.  Thanks for being an encouragement to me as I’ve written about and lived out the years after Bub’s passing and grieved and rejoiced along side many of you, as well.

Great is Thy Faithfulness.