I'm sitting in my office, it's 3:30… very few people are in the building today. I'm one of 4 other people who chose to come in and get some work done before the holiday. Its cold out today, below 0 in fact. I have a sweater on my lap, my heater on high next to me and the lights off. The sun is just starting to set and the glow in my office from the rays of sunshine is very peaceful. I am in a debbie-downer kind of mood…. or maybe, more accurately, it's the first time this December that I have had a moment of quiet to reflect on me and the ache of my own heart and it hurts to be in this place… this moment that I can't out-run my sadness. I can't laugh it away by being silly with the kids, I can't zone out of it by reading a book or watching some mindless TV show. I am stuck facing it. Which I know I have to do anyway, I might as well do it when I am by myself. It's funny how over time grieving feels better when I am by myself. It feels more authentic, more real and true to how I want to feel. There is no one to ask if I am ok… there is no one to misinterpret my tears… no one to make uncomfortable with my sadness. Just me and my brokenness… the me I try to hide, the me I don't let people see. The me I am not comfortable with, but am slowly learning to accept. ME… and no one else… these are the moments when grief can be the most overwhelming. The moments when my own anger and self-pity gang up on me and try to break me again. But… true to the way God has surprised me and supported me through this journey thus far, he is at it once again. When my tears begin blurring my vision and making their slow decent down my cheeks, a song pops on and the words speak to me…and like so many other times, it FITS this moment and reminds me that I am NEVER alone… I am NEVER without Him and his endless love. The song is called Worn, by Tenth Avenue North… here are the first few verses.
I'm tired
I'm worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing I've made mistakes I've let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left
Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn
I want to know a song can rise
From the aches of a broken life
All thats dead inside can be reborn
Cause I'm worn
I know I need
To lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won't let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left…
I mean really… how does He do it? How does he know when I can't take much more? It makes me wonder if my own little angel is watching and seeing me hurting? I can envision him tugging at the robes of Jesus saying, 'my mommy needs you.' What a beautiful picture I just painted in my mind…
So, November 18th was our dear Declan's birthday. He would have been two… I expected to have a ton of things to say about it. I expected the day to be something different then what is was. However, it was a strange day. It has taken me this long to wrap my thoughts around it. I had the day off. I had envisioned Nate and I doing something special, something in memory of him, something to elevate my sour mood… but Nate ended up having to work and I found myself home alone, by myself. I tried to sleep in, I tried to force my eyes shut, but getting up at 5:15 every morning makes it almost impossible to sleep past 7am, which is sleeping in I guess. I laid there, wondering what I should do. What would make the day special… what would make me feel like I was honoring him in someway? I came up with nothing. I found myself watching the final episode of Spartacus… blood and guts and gore… At the end, if your familiar with the story, most of the main characters die, a fairly gruesome death that seem unfitting since they were simply fighting for the right to be free. I broke down at how unfair life is and clearly has always been. Good people dealing with unfairness and broken hearts… it doesn't seem right. I found myself sympathizing with these slaves/rebels and thinking to myself if only there was someone I could fight, someone I could blame for the burden I have been forced to carry. If only I could carry my ax into battle to make someone pay for my broken heart and broken life…but there is no one. No one did this to us, no one took our sons life… it's the unlucky hand we were dealt. Even if there were someone to hurl my pain at, it would not change the fact that he is gone from this world. It would not make my broken spirit better. It would not mend my broken heart. Anger and rage are easy pits to allow yourself to fall in to, but are not healthy places to be. I think I have worked really hard at not letting the unfairness of his death, the pain of losing him turn me into someone I am not… I don't thrive in those negative feelings. I need happy, I need love, I need joy… I need to see the world as a beautiful place and to know that there is still good out there. I laid there for awhile, feeling sorry for myself…then I realized I needed to get out of bed. I needed to shower, I needed to get dressed and develop a plan for what to do with myself. I decided to call up a dear friend and see if she would have lunch with me. She is also a survivor of child loss and has become a huge source of support for me. We chatted, we laughed and we cried… but she's the type of friend who makes you comfortable with your tears and ok with being a mess out in public! Late afternoon, an unexpected surprise arrived at our door in the form of an angel… referring to both the cookies and the friend who delivered them!
Specially made for us… with Declan's name on them! As cute as they are, I expected them to taste bad, but no, there were amazing! They were SO SO good.
It was exactly what I needed on that day… a reminder that Declan and his life have touched many peoples hearts.
