I have tried to not only understand, but describe, the pit that has been in my being, my soul, my inner self, my womb since Allison died. Yes, I am saying the word. Died. It still doesn't roll off my tongue easily. It's like a stutter. It's even like I try to think of words to say INSTEAD...because, as I have written about and live through every day, she didn't DIE, but, yet, in terms that people understand, she did. So I sometimes say IT. But I don't like IT. Still.
The "pit" is something that I am learning to live with, through, and to cope with. I heed its messages, warnings, sadness, as I know it is the place I hold my grief. Is this the way with all mothers who have carried a child under their heart, I often wonder. I just don't know how to understand it. It gnaws and makes me feel hungry, I try to satisfy it by eating healthy, or not so healthy, satisfy the pain with what appeals to me at the time, but very seldom does anything soothe or take it away, that ache, that is sometimes dull and often relentless. It creates nausea, it stimulates hunger and it is my constant reminder that the effect of grief on my body and spirit never leaves, no one will ever see it, yet, it is always there.
Imagine my surprise when I turned to a Facebook Page I look at from time to time, Grief and Loss, and a mother's blog was featured. I like how the group showcases different blogs with one time articles, and then if the blog appeals to you, you can certainly follow. Sometimes I do, often I do not. Lately, I have found them to be of some comfort and support and they touch me in ways I didn't even know I needed. My own blog has been my main source, as my fingers virtually fly to release the feelings within, so that I may move through, and around this cloud that follows my every move. So, there I was, led to a posting of "The Pit", so I am not taking credit for her words on www.thegriefspot.blogspot.com, I am simply sharing so as not to plagiarize (the English teacher I was has made me paranoid:). The mother remains nameless to me thus far, but I did post on her blog so she knows how much she helped me as she shared, and put into words what I could not, her feelings of "the pit". What struck me most was her words that were so literal and descriptive, especially when she spoke of how the feeling was like one of "scar tissue stretched and spread" and how "the pit" is her "touchstone in reality". I, myself, being so unaware of this type of grief, have often believed something HAS to be physically wrong with me, have sought out doctors, have in my heart wondered if I had cancer, or if something had gone horribly awry with surgeries that took place long before grief! When I read that this grief has been with her for eight yers and that "the pit" was her personal "reminder to look after me", I struck an instant, identical understanding! I have so often used "the pit" as my personal barometer, especially since losing my child, and try to heed the signs to rest and care and find my own self-awareness!
No one sees this pit, no one knows it exists, no one knows how deep it goes, the numbness, the emptiness, even while being filled with all the other joys of life, learning to live with this pit, a hole that will never be fulfilled again, is my constant challenge. Sometimes I welcome it because it makes me FEEL again, sometimes I despise it, because I do not understand it, sometimes I embrace it because it is my signal to hold on and know myself, to fill myself up with God's embrace and love, to cling to love, to count the blessings of my life. And sometimes, I just want it to all go away, to turn back and not know of it, and others, I want it to stay, because it makes me know I am alive and it helps me find my purpose, if only for a short time. This "pit" may be here to stay, it may fade in time, it may surge without mercy, all I know is, it is real, no, you cannot see it, but it is mine.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
A Home
I am posting a photo that brings me comfort, peace, joy and love....and oh so many memories, not just for me, but for my family, both immediate and afar, the cousins, the friends, the parties, the celebrations, the milestones...through many rough times that only made us stronger, I needed to see this image today, for myself. I could write a book about this house, and I just might, beginning with a couple who barely had any funds to do so, yet found a way to move into the house that would become a home. We stretched the dollars back then, Jen being 5 and Allison being 3 years old. We didn't enter with much. But we left with so much more.
Joe had just gotten the "really big job", inside family joke. We had to move from the other house for a multitude of reasons, and here we found this multi-level home, complete with an in-law apartment in the basement, all set up for whatever we may need. Thinking it might serve us well for the future teen years, it was enticing to say the least. The three level deck served us in ways that were complete and utter enjoyment, from hosting David and Kathy's rehearsal dinner, to all the birthday parties, to the relaxation of wine and ale, to the supervision of the young people who liked it as well, a little too much at times! We had a neighborhood pool where we spent our summers and we thought we had truly arrived! Sacrifices, oh yes, worries, oh yes, times that became almost too difficult to bear, oh yes, just like any house that becomes one's home.
What has brought me to think of this house is the many conversations my sister and I have had about THEIR house. The one where Michael now rests and restores and heals in, the one where Karen tends to every need of the family, and her beloved husband. The one where the memories just stream out of, and the one where our past became our future. Just like the house on Cameo Drive. Just like that one.
What transpired in those houses have now become pictures in our minds. At the time, we were too busy to notice. We were going here, there, Joe was coaching t-ball or soccer for girls' teams, God bless his soul and he was always working toward his own personal goals and running, running, running (the girls in Bridgeton still miss him)! I was Girl Scout Leader and Sunday School teacher, and a social butterfly. We came, we went, we lived, we didn't know, sometimes to slow down and look around. We didn't know those were the best years of our lives. Well, sort of. I'm not saying I would trade them. Would I do anything differently? Perhaps. But we didn't know any better. We did our best with what we had or were given at the time. We didn't know love was holding it all together.
There came a time when my parents lost all possessions and everything they had. They were the age I am right now. They had no place to go and had exhausted options in Missouri and in Hull, where Karen and Michael and the boys lived. So, they came to the in-law apartment, and stayed for many years to come. Not enough years. Mom became ill and left this earth so early, at 62 and later, Dad developed cancer and three months after diagnosis, he, too, was gone. Both virtually lived and died in this house. So many stories in between, but those will be saved for another day.
The lesson of the house was simple, or at least now it is...when the airport bought us out and the land was to become a runway, I was devastated. I think I could have stayed in that house and be the last one standing, well, we practically were. I couldn't bare to leave it, even though we had not repaired or replaced much, knowing for years it would be demolished. Still, I will never forget the feeling of closing that door for the last time, wondering why I felt so emotional, so sad, so lost and empty. Now I know. It wasn't a house, it was a home.
It brings me great joy just to gaze upon the photographs that we have of our beloved house with the orange door, orange carpet and worn out stairs. Through my eyes, I see so much more, and I feel so much stronger, for having learned what I learned, loved who I loved, and know what I know about life, from within the walls of that home. I am richer, wiser, and better for having been there.
Joe had just gotten the "really big job", inside family joke. We had to move from the other house for a multitude of reasons, and here we found this multi-level home, complete with an in-law apartment in the basement, all set up for whatever we may need. Thinking it might serve us well for the future teen years, it was enticing to say the least. The three level deck served us in ways that were complete and utter enjoyment, from hosting David and Kathy's rehearsal dinner, to all the birthday parties, to the relaxation of wine and ale, to the supervision of the young people who liked it as well, a little too much at times! We had a neighborhood pool where we spent our summers and we thought we had truly arrived! Sacrifices, oh yes, worries, oh yes, times that became almost too difficult to bear, oh yes, just like any house that becomes one's home.
What has brought me to think of this house is the many conversations my sister and I have had about THEIR house. The one where Michael now rests and restores and heals in, the one where Karen tends to every need of the family, and her beloved husband. The one where the memories just stream out of, and the one where our past became our future. Just like the house on Cameo Drive. Just like that one.
What transpired in those houses have now become pictures in our minds. At the time, we were too busy to notice. We were going here, there, Joe was coaching t-ball or soccer for girls' teams, God bless his soul and he was always working toward his own personal goals and running, running, running (the girls in Bridgeton still miss him)! I was Girl Scout Leader and Sunday School teacher, and a social butterfly. We came, we went, we lived, we didn't know, sometimes to slow down and look around. We didn't know those were the best years of our lives. Well, sort of. I'm not saying I would trade them. Would I do anything differently? Perhaps. But we didn't know any better. We did our best with what we had or were given at the time. We didn't know love was holding it all together.
There came a time when my parents lost all possessions and everything they had. They were the age I am right now. They had no place to go and had exhausted options in Missouri and in Hull, where Karen and Michael and the boys lived. So, they came to the in-law apartment, and stayed for many years to come. Not enough years. Mom became ill and left this earth so early, at 62 and later, Dad developed cancer and three months after diagnosis, he, too, was gone. Both virtually lived and died in this house. So many stories in between, but those will be saved for another day.
The lesson of the house was simple, or at least now it is...when the airport bought us out and the land was to become a runway, I was devastated. I think I could have stayed in that house and be the last one standing, well, we practically were. I couldn't bare to leave it, even though we had not repaired or replaced much, knowing for years it would be demolished. Still, I will never forget the feeling of closing that door for the last time, wondering why I felt so emotional, so sad, so lost and empty. Now I know. It wasn't a house, it was a home.
It brings me great joy just to gaze upon the photographs that we have of our beloved house with the orange door, orange carpet and worn out stairs. Through my eyes, I see so much more, and I feel so much stronger, for having learned what I learned, loved who I loved, and know what I know about life, from within the walls of that home. I am richer, wiser, and better for having been there.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Stress, What Stress?
There are ways we all cope with our stress, some involve things or addictions that are not necessarily good for us...the list can range from sugar, alcohol, drugs, tobacco, too much sleep, not enough sleep, on and on and on....The list can include many things that ARE good for us, as well, and that is what I focus on, even though I have a few of my own ways that are probably not as beneficial as others....like baking too many things from the new cookbook, and eating them, or spending money on things I really don't need, and neither do the people I buy them for...but what the heck?! As I think about moving energy and staying around all that is positive and powerful for myself, I risk moving on and past some former things, and people, in my life. I have written about this before, it seems to surge when I know that someone takes offense to my inability to be present in their life, or when I don't have the emotional strength to attend a gathering or be social. Grief is a lonely world at times. I don't want any other mother to share this, but I do want every other mother to understand. Maybe that will help the next mother or father or sister or brother, or wife or child. Maybe they won't question or wonder why things aren't "different" or "better", maybe they can rid themselves of perceptions or how things appear, seem or "look", maybe they won't impose a time frame for others who walk the valley of grief. Maybe they won't be so quick to misunderstand the meaning of an "anniversary" that doesn't have to be marked with a profound passage, maybe it's just a day that means something only to me, that brings on a memory that I can barely breathe through, let alone live through, that suffocates, only to bring a surge of peace and elation that Allison was spared the dreaded disease to her lungs, that God chose her to leave this earth early, and she took heed of His call.
My stress lies in the pain and distress of my daughter, who went through more than I have ever observed in my lifetime, now, with the exception of my brother-in-law, who now parallels her every step. Uncanny? Unbelievable? Surreal? All of the above?
But that stress was taken from me, almost as soon as it began. Eleven short weeks for her, going on three years for Michael, and he is still fighting. And those around him are managing the stress of watching a loved one in pain, in suffering, myself included. My stress is different than anyone else's because I have travelled a road that many have not, at least not in the immediate family and circle of friends. I understand at a perfectly different level how this all makes sense, no, not the diagnosis, the journey, the fluctuations, the hope, the despair, but the divinity that prevails and the plan that God is unravelling. That doesn't mean I don't operate with my own stressors, but I have learned to cope and live, despite the fact that I would prefer to roll into a ball and never come out of a sheltered cocoon. That doesn't mean I don't over indulge in ice-cream or other coping mechanisms from time to time to manage the stress! But what it does mean is that I know how to find my peace, the peace that God gives for the asking when we travel hand in hand with Him. And what it does mean is that when God used Allison in such powerful ways, He erased stressors from my life in a way I would have never seen or imagined. He has shown me that all circumstances change, and we must change with them. Nothing remains the same. We get to respond to the pain and problem of the day.
I work on self-discipline, seizing the day, waking up and living, moving, maybe not ON or AHEAD, but moving. I may tread water, I may have setbacks, I may have to affirm through faith and scriptures that I am going to be able to do this, live with the stress life hands, and ask God's guidance on how to respond. I don't always do things right or correctly or according to plan. There is NO plan for this, this painful and penetrating loss of a child, this observance of another loved one who follows in her footsteps, leaving us once again breathless and in wonder. There is NO plan at all. But we will do it, I will do it, I will fill myself with the energy only God can provide, through His word, through His creations, through the beauty of this day, through the small blessings and the lives of those around me who need me, and whom I need. I will not be stressed, I will rid myself of the negativity that permeates when I listen to others who do not know, who only think they are helping, or of those who offer opinions without any basis of reality. I will do what is best for me, knowing that with my daughter, God took any reason to be stressed completely away. Nothing else can compare. There is no reason to be afraid.
My stress lies in the pain and distress of my daughter, who went through more than I have ever observed in my lifetime, now, with the exception of my brother-in-law, who now parallels her every step. Uncanny? Unbelievable? Surreal? All of the above?
But that stress was taken from me, almost as soon as it began. Eleven short weeks for her, going on three years for Michael, and he is still fighting. And those around him are managing the stress of watching a loved one in pain, in suffering, myself included. My stress is different than anyone else's because I have travelled a road that many have not, at least not in the immediate family and circle of friends. I understand at a perfectly different level how this all makes sense, no, not the diagnosis, the journey, the fluctuations, the hope, the despair, but the divinity that prevails and the plan that God is unravelling. That doesn't mean I don't operate with my own stressors, but I have learned to cope and live, despite the fact that I would prefer to roll into a ball and never come out of a sheltered cocoon. That doesn't mean I don't over indulge in ice-cream or other coping mechanisms from time to time to manage the stress! But what it does mean is that I know how to find my peace, the peace that God gives for the asking when we travel hand in hand with Him. And what it does mean is that when God used Allison in such powerful ways, He erased stressors from my life in a way I would have never seen or imagined. He has shown me that all circumstances change, and we must change with them. Nothing remains the same. We get to respond to the pain and problem of the day.
I work on self-discipline, seizing the day, waking up and living, moving, maybe not ON or AHEAD, but moving. I may tread water, I may have setbacks, I may have to affirm through faith and scriptures that I am going to be able to do this, live with the stress life hands, and ask God's guidance on how to respond. I don't always do things right or correctly or according to plan. There is NO plan for this, this painful and penetrating loss of a child, this observance of another loved one who follows in her footsteps, leaving us once again breathless and in wonder. There is NO plan at all. But we will do it, I will do it, I will fill myself with the energy only God can provide, through His word, through His creations, through the beauty of this day, through the small blessings and the lives of those around me who need me, and whom I need. I will not be stressed, I will rid myself of the negativity that permeates when I listen to others who do not know, who only think they are helping, or of those who offer opinions without any basis of reality. I will do what is best for me, knowing that with my daughter, God took any reason to be stressed completely away. Nothing else can compare. There is no reason to be afraid.
Friday, July 9, 2010
What's LOVE Got To Do With It?!
I am feeling so much love at many different levels these days. Love is powerful, this we know from the scriptures in the Bible that I read regularly. Love is a motivator. Love is respect. Love is caring. Love is kindness and tenderness and filled with hope. Love is patient. Love is fulfilling. Where are we without it and what does LOVE have to do with it, with anything?
A whole book could be written of love. I think of my personal journey of love, as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, aunt...as a human being. I have discovered that is why we are put on this earth, and while our love can be tested, it is what motivates, guides, directs, gives us purpose. It removes us from ourselves. It is God's greatest gift to us, as His children. I can forget I am, after all, His child, because the pressures of adulthood and a world that is ever changing can get to me, the pain is so intense that I wonder how I am to endure, the sadness, the heartache, the suffering. I am numb and weak and broken, at times, but the love of a kind and tender God above brings me right back to where I am supposed to be....
I know that love often makes itself visible in pain. I am witnessing that again, firsthand, in my immediate family as my brother in law fights the cancer battle. Doctors may have believed he was in final stages of life in the physical sense, but he is showing strength, fortitude, the will to fight and live. I believe that is the power of love, and love has everything to do with it. He has found a loving God himself, who He believes in, who he knows sent His only son to die for us. What could be more satisfying than that, knowing that all the days of your life you have the true gift that has been there for the asking? He has also found the loving hands of a faithful wife, sons, and family, who give him every reason to cling to this life. With very little, if any, independence in recent days, there he is, gaining strength and proving a desire to live in love. With very little hope of another week or month or summer, he is still with us and here to live the day. That is LOVE and that is God and that is the family and friends God sends in the form of angels.
We can take the obvious and unobtrusive love for granted. We often do. It happens. Then life intervenes and we realize, almost too late, what exactly LOVE has to do with it. It has everything to do with it. It brings us to a place where we are truly blessed, whether we know it or not. It comes in the form of what others can do or say, or even NOT do or say. It comes in the quiet listener of a good and dear friend. It comes in the tender way in which we care for our loved ones. It comes in the form of a card or a meal, or a gift or a sign. It surrounds us and touches us in ways we may never have known, had we not been open to it all. And for some, it comes too late. The regrets set in, the "what ifs" and the "what fors", and we want the time back. Only we cannot get it. We don't know, until tragedy or loss invades, just what we had. We always think there is a tomorrow. And there is not. We only have right now. And right now is filled with love!
LOVE holds so much power and depth. My heart is over joyed with it at times, mostly, because I had the chance to love with all my heart, and still do. Just because there is loss, my mother, my father, my daughter, doesn't mean the love stops. If nothing else, it grows and grows and forms anew in my beating heart. My loved ones who passed on knew I loved, from the way we interacted, respected, cared, and behaved. It's not the words that are said, it's the beating of the heart from one person to another.
I know, now, that I can never ever take for granted that I will see my loved ones again when we part. There is no promise that there is another day to say or do what LOVE guides me to do. I suppose that is why I find it important to act upon my heart's intentions every day of my life, follow the spirit that is guided by God above, not question or ponder too long, wonder what others will think. I always say if I follow my heart I just cannot go wrong and I pray my intentions are pleasing to God, for that is all that matters, really.
I don't want to love in retrospect. I want to live and love and be present. I ask God's assistance in helping me seize the day, and I know that as long as I accept His unending love, I can love, and be loved. I can live knowing LOVE has everything to do with everything.
A whole book could be written of love. I think of my personal journey of love, as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, aunt...as a human being. I have discovered that is why we are put on this earth, and while our love can be tested, it is what motivates, guides, directs, gives us purpose. It removes us from ourselves. It is God's greatest gift to us, as His children. I can forget I am, after all, His child, because the pressures of adulthood and a world that is ever changing can get to me, the pain is so intense that I wonder how I am to endure, the sadness, the heartache, the suffering. I am numb and weak and broken, at times, but the love of a kind and tender God above brings me right back to where I am supposed to be....
I know that love often makes itself visible in pain. I am witnessing that again, firsthand, in my immediate family as my brother in law fights the cancer battle. Doctors may have believed he was in final stages of life in the physical sense, but he is showing strength, fortitude, the will to fight and live. I believe that is the power of love, and love has everything to do with it. He has found a loving God himself, who He believes in, who he knows sent His only son to die for us. What could be more satisfying than that, knowing that all the days of your life you have the true gift that has been there for the asking? He has also found the loving hands of a faithful wife, sons, and family, who give him every reason to cling to this life. With very little, if any, independence in recent days, there he is, gaining strength and proving a desire to live in love. With very little hope of another week or month or summer, he is still with us and here to live the day. That is LOVE and that is God and that is the family and friends God sends in the form of angels.
We can take the obvious and unobtrusive love for granted. We often do. It happens. Then life intervenes and we realize, almost too late, what exactly LOVE has to do with it. It has everything to do with it. It brings us to a place where we are truly blessed, whether we know it or not. It comes in the form of what others can do or say, or even NOT do or say. It comes in the quiet listener of a good and dear friend. It comes in the tender way in which we care for our loved ones. It comes in the form of a card or a meal, or a gift or a sign. It surrounds us and touches us in ways we may never have known, had we not been open to it all. And for some, it comes too late. The regrets set in, the "what ifs" and the "what fors", and we want the time back. Only we cannot get it. We don't know, until tragedy or loss invades, just what we had. We always think there is a tomorrow. And there is not. We only have right now. And right now is filled with love!
LOVE holds so much power and depth. My heart is over joyed with it at times, mostly, because I had the chance to love with all my heart, and still do. Just because there is loss, my mother, my father, my daughter, doesn't mean the love stops. If nothing else, it grows and grows and forms anew in my beating heart. My loved ones who passed on knew I loved, from the way we interacted, respected, cared, and behaved. It's not the words that are said, it's the beating of the heart from one person to another.
I know, now, that I can never ever take for granted that I will see my loved ones again when we part. There is no promise that there is another day to say or do what LOVE guides me to do. I suppose that is why I find it important to act upon my heart's intentions every day of my life, follow the spirit that is guided by God above, not question or ponder too long, wonder what others will think. I always say if I follow my heart I just cannot go wrong and I pray my intentions are pleasing to God, for that is all that matters, really.
I don't want to love in retrospect. I want to live and love and be present. I ask God's assistance in helping me seize the day, and I know that as long as I accept His unending love, I can love, and be loved. I can live knowing LOVE has everything to do with everything.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Cancer Gives....TIME
Sometimes cancer gives time, in my experiences, it always has. The variable of time is quite different for all who endure it, the patient, the caregiver, the loved ones. I have looked so deeply into the eyes of those I have loved and wondered what the element of TIME means to them as the patient, how long since the diagnosis, how they lived and embraced the day, how they passed it, how they hoped for it, how they interpreted it. Time and cancer go hand in hand. And, again, only from my experiences, time is a gift. While never enough of it, so much can happen in the TIME spent with a loved one. There is no call of real shock, there is no sudden death to take you off your feet in unprepared fashion, there is no true surprise to one's end of life experiences. Time becomes a gift that cancer gives.
I could rant and rave about what cancer takes away, also. And that is one in the same, TIME. It does take away our past, our present, our future. It strips and robs and all the while helps you to know that the body is our temple, housing the spirit that is what holds it together. Our bodies do change and transform, and all of a sudden, all the beauty that we thought was important means very little, the hair is gone, replaced by hats and scarves, the weight is lost or gained, the transformations are unbelievable, surreal, right before our eyes. But we (our loved ones) are still the same. Nothing changes on the inside, except the lessons and the strength and the perseverance and determination, and ultimately the spirit grows. My contention is it grows, so that it might soar.
I am grateful for TIME, time I had with my father, my daughter, and now my sister's husband. To have those conversations that I have had with all of them is my greatest gift, even while blended with my greatest sadness. I am just plain sad right now. Not because I must leave the family now, to return to my own, but because the world has changed. Changed as cancer invaded, subsided, roared, raged, rested, only to surge and consume. And in doing so, there has been loss. And loss is hard because it doesn't fall into our realm of how things are "supposed" to be...Allison is "supposed" to be here, Michael is "supposed" to be strong enough to drive the jeep, walk alone, stand alone. But she isn't. And he isn't.
As I sat with him yesterday, just he and I, and I was able to answer some of his questions with definitive answers, drawn from experience, I was also able to make promises that I know I can keep. I promised him in the name of a loving Father who tends to all things. I promised Karen will be cared for and loved, should his time on earth come to an end sooner than any of us would have imagined. As he explained how tired he was I promised him that if his physical body isn't meant to be attached to a suffering body any longer, that he would never leave us, that he will be in everything we do, for always. He will be in the sea breeze, as Allison is in the pink sunsets over the ocean, he will be in the music we play, and he will be in the laughter. He will be in the decisions and the choices. He will be all around us, guiding and nudging and even probing. He will not truly go anywhere. He will be here, for always.
As I head home, soon, I thank God for time, for this time, as painful as it is, that we had our moment, that he may find peace in knowing, and accepting, God's gift of salvation. That one day he can plant both feet firmly on the side of heaven, not jockeying as he is right now. That peace will be his. All the while, we know God is the true miracle worker. His medicine far exceeds man's! So, as we pass the time, we know, too, in our hearts, that restoration and healing can take place in ways we would never believe. Right before our eyes, there it will be, and Michael will receive his own sweet miracle. It will be beautiful to see, as we pass the TIME.
I could rant and rave about what cancer takes away, also. And that is one in the same, TIME. It does take away our past, our present, our future. It strips and robs and all the while helps you to know that the body is our temple, housing the spirit that is what holds it together. Our bodies do change and transform, and all of a sudden, all the beauty that we thought was important means very little, the hair is gone, replaced by hats and scarves, the weight is lost or gained, the transformations are unbelievable, surreal, right before our eyes. But we (our loved ones) are still the same. Nothing changes on the inside, except the lessons and the strength and the perseverance and determination, and ultimately the spirit grows. My contention is it grows, so that it might soar.
I am grateful for TIME, time I had with my father, my daughter, and now my sister's husband. To have those conversations that I have had with all of them is my greatest gift, even while blended with my greatest sadness. I am just plain sad right now. Not because I must leave the family now, to return to my own, but because the world has changed. Changed as cancer invaded, subsided, roared, raged, rested, only to surge and consume. And in doing so, there has been loss. And loss is hard because it doesn't fall into our realm of how things are "supposed" to be...Allison is "supposed" to be here, Michael is "supposed" to be strong enough to drive the jeep, walk alone, stand alone. But she isn't. And he isn't.
As I sat with him yesterday, just he and I, and I was able to answer some of his questions with definitive answers, drawn from experience, I was also able to make promises that I know I can keep. I promised him in the name of a loving Father who tends to all things. I promised Karen will be cared for and loved, should his time on earth come to an end sooner than any of us would have imagined. As he explained how tired he was I promised him that if his physical body isn't meant to be attached to a suffering body any longer, that he would never leave us, that he will be in everything we do, for always. He will be in the sea breeze, as Allison is in the pink sunsets over the ocean, he will be in the music we play, and he will be in the laughter. He will be in the decisions and the choices. He will be all around us, guiding and nudging and even probing. He will not truly go anywhere. He will be here, for always.
As I head home, soon, I thank God for time, for this time, as painful as it is, that we had our moment, that he may find peace in knowing, and accepting, God's gift of salvation. That one day he can plant both feet firmly on the side of heaven, not jockeying as he is right now. That peace will be his. All the while, we know God is the true miracle worker. His medicine far exceeds man's! So, as we pass the time, we know, too, in our hearts, that restoration and healing can take place in ways we would never believe. Right before our eyes, there it will be, and Michael will receive his own sweet miracle. It will be beautiful to see, as we pass the TIME.
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