I’ve been writing
down my thoughts over the holidays, but nothing seems to gel. This journey I find myself on is far from
easy to share, or even describe, but there are growing moments of light in the darkness.
How do I describe the feelings that go through my mind when someone calls with the sad news that yet another young one has died and they ask “Could you help the family?”
How do I share the happiness when I see Stephi's face as she opens the UNCW logo sweatshirt from Britt (Stephi's chosen university); or the special warmth that comes from watching an entire congregation lift their lit candles into the darkness as they sing “Silent Night” and then I see a young boy holding up a glow stick and my heart sinks because I know how much my own little boy would love to be doing that? It suddenly occurs to me my little boy would be a 15 year old teen holding a candle….
How I then wake up in the
morning ready to bake Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, brew some coffee and sit down
next to a purring cat and watch the lights of heaven show brightly through the
clouds and blue sky?
How I am such a
mess, and miss my son so much it physically aches, but I am becoming more and more able to find the light and wonder in the day?
“The great thing to remember is that though our feelings come and go God's love for us does not.”
― C.S. Lewis
How do I describe the feelings that go through my mind when someone calls with the sad news that yet another young one has died and they ask “Could you help the family?”
How do I share the happiness when I see Stephi's face as she opens the UNCW logo sweatshirt from Britt (Stephi's chosen university); or the special warmth that comes from watching an entire congregation lift their lit candles into the darkness as they sing “Silent Night” and then I see a young boy holding up a glow stick and my heart sinks because I know how much my own little boy would love to be doing that? It suddenly occurs to me my little boy would be a 15 year old teen holding a candle….
How do I share going
through the holiest of holidays emotionally neutral because my children are
growing up, and my youngest one whose passion for Christmas was contagious isn’t here anymore? Then I wonder.... would he still be so passionate?
How do I share how
much I love to go sit on my daughters’ beds and just be a fly on the wall with
them and their thoughts but when I step into the bedroom between theirs, I become
a puddle of grief as I look around at a room full of Joshua's things? What would it look like now? Would there be sports themed clothes strewn
on the floor? Would there be more
trophies on the shelf? Cologne on the
dresser top?
How after sitting in
his room I go downstairs and instantly find myself laughing that belly laugh of
old because both daughters are playfully taunting their father?
How do I share those moments
that occur, out of the blue when the death mask from that ugly Saturday morning
in 2010 enters my thoughts and my whole body wracks with tears and desperation once again?
How I then wake up in the
morning ready to bake Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, brew some coffee and sit down
next to a purring cat and watch the lights of heaven show brightly through the
clouds and blue sky?
How a bottle (or
two) of wine with friends, and resting my head on the shoulder of my mountain
man brings happiness?
How I am such a
mess, and miss my son so much it physically aches, but I am becoming more and more able to find the light and wonder in the day?
How I keep fighting for my life, love my God
and am truly glad I’m here?
I share it with you!
HUGS!
Sherri
I share it with you!
HUGS!
Sherri
“The great thing to remember is that though our feelings come and go God's love for us does not.”
― C.S. Lewis
No comments:
Post a Comment