When Sadness Strikes
I'm feeling really sad today. It actually started a few days ago, hit a peak last night, and I've been crying already this morning. It's not even 8am.
It's been three and a half years since the tremendous loss of my son. I take for granted how much easier life is now, since there's been time for this wound to heal. But, there are still sad moments and triggers still happen. What's different now is that when these times arise, I'm equal parts sad and shocked.
I know I shouldn't be surprised at all. Friends, time does not heal all wounds. The loss of a child is something that will remain a constant hole in my heart. It is not something I'll ever forget. It's not something you get over. You re-adjust. You learn that the suffering has a greater purpose, and you remember all the things in life you have to be thankful for. I just read this quote from Simone Weil this morning, "Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."
So, even though my sadness has already started to lift - through encouragment from the hubby, spending time in prayer, and going upstairs to fetch my smiling little girl - I know it's still important to blog about the sadness. Because it can make you feel stuck, it can feel like an unending emotion. So, let's dig in...
It started at the annual Young Life banquet. I have a giant display set up at a table to let others know about Gabriel's Walk & 5K and to give them a little background on our story. I talked with several people as they walked up to check it out, all of them turning sad as they read, one couple visibly upset. I stood there stuck in professional mode. No emotion. I thanked them for coming over to read more about our story and encouraged them to check out the Silent Auction for some happier items. I was so mad at myself. Where were the tears?
Moments later, I hear someone describing Ruby (the baby still baking inside) as our third one. That did it! I was so upset. Couldn't stop the tears. So now I was feeling like I presented myself as non-emotional one moment and crazy the next. Lovely. I stuffed the feelings, put on a happy face and got through the night... until it arose again.
(For the record, I realize how innocent and non intentionally hateful it is to refer to Ruby as #3. I myself even cringe when I talk about soon having "three to take care of" because I feel like I'm voiding the existence of Gabriel. As the Momma who literally carried him nine months, endured labor, and met his sweet face - it's just a giant slap in the face. But, with that said, I get it.)
Last night, in a desperate attempt to get outta the house, Kyle and I decided we should take the kids over to the mall - to walk around and let them get some energy out at the play-place. We did one lap around the mall, and my back was already aching, so off to the indoor playground to let them run around. As soon as we approached, my anxiety started growing. Kyle could see the uncertainty on my face and we decided we'd let Joel get in, but that he would keep pushing Zoe around in the stroller. He came back a few minutes later and there were less kids inside the toddler area, and we agreed Zoe could go in if Kyle went with her. Oh em gee, when did I turn into this mom? The one who wants to shelter her kids so severely that she has trouble allowing them to play? My concern over my kids' well-being was overwhelming. I was afraid they'd get hurt, by another kid or by the equipment. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to see both of them at the same time and they'd get lost or be stolen. All (somewhat) irrational thoughts. Although at one point, there was a little girl grabbing my little girl by her neck, trying to "help" her up the stairs. Sigh.
It finally occurred to me this morning, that we've been inside for awhile, enduring this long winter. Both figuratively and literally, my kids have been sheltered for months. And I had forgotten how scary it is out there in the real world. I had forgotten how safe and comfortable it feels inside the sanctuary that is my home. But, most of all, I had forgotten how protective I feel about my kids...
As moms, we are as protective as we are loving, and it's my opinion that the protective part of us grows substantially when we lose a child. It's like those of us who have endured this type of pain now have a better understanding that life is not a guaranteed gift for any set amount of time. And we've lost one child, so we have to do everything in our power to ensure the safety of the ones left in our care. I guess that realization is what caused the tears this morning. I just couldn't shake my feelings from last night. The very real fear that something could happen to my precious little ones still in my care...
I know that God never gives us a spirit of fear, and that truth began to flow over me this morning. Maybe it was because I was safe at home with my babies, maybe it was because my Godly hubby was praying for me on his way to work because he left his wife a crying mess. Either way, the sadness has lifted. And I am grateful.
It's been three and a half years since the tremendous loss of my son. I take for granted how much easier life is now, since there's been time for this wound to heal. But, there are still sad moments and triggers still happen. What's different now is that when these times arise, I'm equal parts sad and shocked.
 |
| The one my heart longs for... |
I know I shouldn't be surprised at all. Friends, time does not heal all wounds. The loss of a child is something that will remain a constant hole in my heart. It is not something I'll ever forget. It's not something you get over. You re-adjust. You learn that the suffering has a greater purpose, and you remember all the things in life you have to be thankful for. I just read this quote from Simone Weil this morning, "Love of God is pure when joy and suffering inspire an equal degree of gratitude."
So, even though my sadness has already started to lift - through encouragment from the hubby, spending time in prayer, and going upstairs to fetch my smiling little girl - I know it's still important to blog about the sadness. Because it can make you feel stuck, it can feel like an unending emotion. So, let's dig in...
It started at the annual Young Life banquet. I have a giant display set up at a table to let others know about Gabriel's Walk & 5K and to give them a little background on our story. I talked with several people as they walked up to check it out, all of them turning sad as they read, one couple visibly upset. I stood there stuck in professional mode. No emotion. I thanked them for coming over to read more about our story and encouraged them to check out the Silent Auction for some happier items. I was so mad at myself. Where were the tears?
Moments later, I hear someone describing Ruby (the baby still baking inside) as our third one. That did it! I was so upset. Couldn't stop the tears. So now I was feeling like I presented myself as non-emotional one moment and crazy the next. Lovely. I stuffed the feelings, put on a happy face and got through the night... until it arose again.
(For the record, I realize how innocent and non intentionally hateful it is to refer to Ruby as #3. I myself even cringe when I talk about soon having "three to take care of" because I feel like I'm voiding the existence of Gabriel. As the Momma who literally carried him nine months, endured labor, and met his sweet face - it's just a giant slap in the face. But, with that said, I get it.)
 |
| Where would he be in this picture? |
Last night, in a desperate attempt to get outta the house, Kyle and I decided we should take the kids over to the mall - to walk around and let them get some energy out at the play-place. We did one lap around the mall, and my back was already aching, so off to the indoor playground to let them run around. As soon as we approached, my anxiety started growing. Kyle could see the uncertainty on my face and we decided we'd let Joel get in, but that he would keep pushing Zoe around in the stroller. He came back a few minutes later and there were less kids inside the toddler area, and we agreed Zoe could go in if Kyle went with her. Oh em gee, when did I turn into this mom? The one who wants to shelter her kids so severely that she has trouble allowing them to play? My concern over my kids' well-being was overwhelming. I was afraid they'd get hurt, by another kid or by the equipment. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to see both of them at the same time and they'd get lost or be stolen. All (somewhat) irrational thoughts. Although at one point, there was a little girl grabbing my little girl by her neck, trying to "help" her up the stairs. Sigh.
 |
| How could I NOT be protective of this face? |
It finally occurred to me this morning, that we've been inside for awhile, enduring this long winter. Both figuratively and literally, my kids have been sheltered for months. And I had forgotten how scary it is out there in the real world. I had forgotten how safe and comfortable it feels inside the sanctuary that is my home. But, most of all, I had forgotten how protective I feel about my kids...
As moms, we are as protective as we are loving, and it's my opinion that the protective part of us grows substantially when we lose a child. It's like those of us who have endured this type of pain now have a better understanding that life is not a guaranteed gift for any set amount of time. And we've lost one child, so we have to do everything in our power to ensure the safety of the ones left in our care. I guess that realization is what caused the tears this morning. I just couldn't shake my feelings from last night. The very real fear that something could happen to my precious little ones still in my care...
 |
| My sweet and trusting boy... |
I know that God never gives us a spirit of fear, and that truth began to flow over me this morning. Maybe it was because I was safe at home with my babies, maybe it was because my Godly hubby was praying for me on his way to work because he left his wife a crying mess. Either way, the sadness has lifted. And I am grateful.
I love you, sweetie. xo
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