Showing posts with label bitterness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bitterness. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

letter to a grieving mom

Was it uploading files of photos to Shutterfly and running across 25 pictures of Gabe's pacifier that made me think of how far God has brought us?

Was it seeing other people just beginning the grief road?

I don't know why, but I've had these thoughts whirling around in my head these days, things I would have told the grieving, shattered young woman that was me. 



Dear Mamma-of-a-child-in-Heaven,

It is so hard.

I know.

It does hurt to breathe.

Your arms do physically ache.  It's not your imagination.  You're not going crazy.

Your heart does do weird stuff.  Grief affects us physically.  It's normal.

It's not normal.

It hurts so bad.

You are seeing people that reach out to you, people that have lost children, and they seem okay.  That is freaky scary.  How are they okay?  That intimidates you.  Don't let it.  Grasp the reaching hand they are stretching.  They aren't okay, they just want you to know there is hope. 

You can't sleep.  It's okay.  It's normal.  Your mind runs a movie reel of your child's death endlessly and you can't block it.  That's normal too.  Your mind needs to convince your heart that your baby isn't there anymore.  It's a process.  You can't rush it.  The movie reel won't always keep running, out of your control. 

That little boy wearing the same shirt as your son's-  take a deep breath.  This will not always be the sharp knife that it is now.  His mamma doesn't hate you.  It's not her fault.  If his mamma knew that was your son's outfit too, she never would have made you endure that.  It won't always be so wrenching.  Grief will tell your mind crazy things.  Don't let it lie to you about people.

The family reunion photos that seem like a prison sentence. . . I know, it's not a real family photo.  I know, you're thinking about the glaring omission and a cold little grave and everyone else is smiling.  Don't hate them for smiling.  I know.  I understand.  Take a deep breath.  It's okay not to smile.  It won't always be so brutal

Your first phone call hearing someone died, visiting a funeral home again - I know, you feel like you're panicking and going to vomit and you can't do it.  Cry out to Jesus.  Hug those sad people hard.  Get some more Kleenex.  Let the tears flow.  It's healing. 


Your kids talk about death, or play that they die, or their dolls die-  that is normal.  They cry.  It's normal.  They don't cry.  That's okay too.  Children are resilient.  Love them.  Give them hugs.  They hurt to see you sad too.  They will be okay.  The grief road for your kids is much shorter than it is for you.  Be thankful for that. 


Find the safe people.  You might not feel strong enough to look, but they are there. Find them.  You can pour it out to them.    In almost every situation and at almost every social event, there's someone who understands pain. . . you might find that safe place when everyone is laughing and you see a face, a heart, that isn't.  Don't expect everyone to be safe.  It's too much to ask of the entire world.

There are no ways to soften first birthdays, first holidays, death anniversaries.  It's just going to be sad.  I'm so sorry.  I wish you didn't have to go through it. 

You do things to cope.  You take pictures of keepsakes.  You carry little mementos in your purse.  You hope no one notices and then pray that they will.  Maybe then someone will ask how you're doing, let you cry on their shoulder, tell you that they love you and that they know you loved him.  You will always feel the need to commemorate and acknowledge but the ways of doing it will change.  And that's good.  

You won't get over it.  You will learn how to live with it.  You don't get over part of your heart being gone.  That's just your painful reality.  But you will laugh, you will smile, you will live again.  You can. 

What do I wish I could tell you, you with the dark circles under your eyes and the light on late into the night?  I want you to know that God will carry you if you let Him.  He will carry your pain.  He is so near to the broken hearted.  When He seems far away- and He seems light years away sometimes- cry out to Him.  He is there. 

There are things that happen, words that hurt deeply, that people say and do inadvertently now.  You will cringe and ache.  They don't mean to hurt you.  You will see this in a few years, but it will take years.  Be gentle with them and gentle with yourself, too.  It's okay to back up a little from painful situations, but don't think people mean to hurt you.  They don't.  Believe me. You'll see someday.

Oh dear one, weighed down with the heavy load of grief, know that someday the load will be lighter, and God will give you the incredible gift of helping someone else carry their own burden.  You don't know now, but healing will come from weeping with those who weep. 

One day you will wake up and realize. . .

we have this treasure in jars of clay
 to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us
we are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed;
perplexed, but not in despair; 
persecuted, but not abandoned;
struck down, but not destroyed
. . .therefore we do not lose heart
{from II Corinthians 4}
 
don't lose heart
 
Love,
 
hayley

Thursday, March 14, 2013

fires we didn't start

could write about how i'm archiving all of the grief posts onto one page

could write about homemade tortillas

could write about . . .all kinds of things that i'm not really thinking about.

there's such a fine line hanging out there once you choose to dump your life out in front of people

choose honesty

choose real

choose the heartbreaking joy of not faking

there's this line that can be crossed.

it's called the oversharing line.

not everyone needs to know that Hayley had a bad day.

it's unnecessary.

it drags people down.

it's the reason I don't update my status with a Motrin mention when I have a headache.

so hopefully I'm not oversharing when I say that sometimes. . . in the middle of a very blessed life

and beautiful children

and an incredible man to love me, I still have really bad days.




sometimes life gets complicated

and decisions have two sides

and truth is grey

and you're not sure if the answers are what you need.

sometimes the fires we have to put out weren't ones that we started.

sometimes



you know. 



so when it was one of those days 

and I heard this song tonight. . . it stopped me in my i'm right this time, he's wrong tracks.

I had to pass it on because I cannot be the only person in the world who has days when fighting for your marriage is hard.

love isn't something you fall into.

it's learned.

we have the very best Teacher.

and we learn to love. . . because He first loved us.





I need the fear of a love that's lost
I need to stop trying to count the cost
I need to fight on the losing side
And always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the pain of a broken heart
We can't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
And learn to love through the darkness and the light
I'm on your side

I had the fortune of a second chance
I know the reason why we all should dance
I've seen the end and all you have to do
Is always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the pain of a broken heart
We won't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
We can learn to love through the darkness and the light
I'm on your side

Always hold true
I will always stay with you

Til we know the broken heart
We can't walk through the fires we didn't start
Just hold on to the way it is tonight
And learn to love through the darkness and the light
Oh, learn to love


{Needtobreathe, Learn to Love, from the album The Reckoning}




Saturday, August 14, 2010

this hand is bitterness

.
This hand is bitterness -- we want to taste it


let the hatred numb our sorrow


The wise hand opens slowly


to lilies of the valley -- and tomorrow.





I never understood the concept of hatred drowning out sorrow. . .


never had any reason to contemplate that.


When you grow up in an incredible family


marry a gorgeous guy


live in a beautiful home


have friends you don't deserve


receive the gift of three perfect children. . .


. . .that kind of existence doesn't negate the obvious stresses of life, but it also doesn't lend itself to. . .


bitter tears


crushing pain


confusion in relationships


broken hearts


anger at people who don't understand


bewildering loneliness


frightening loss of reason and balance




I am struggling with forgiveness tonight. . .


It's oh so much easier to let hatred numb the sorrow.


Irrational anger at ones who don't understand. But how could they?


Frustration with carefree people. Carefree. What does that feel like again?


Fury directed at stuff that doesn't matter. Let's fixate on how annoying it is that Cambria threw sand in the pool and clogged the pool filter. If I can stay annoyed, maybe I won't feel the pulsating grief.
Not angry with God.
How could I be angry at the Giver of Gabe's life?
I have cried out to the silent heavens, standing by his little grave, God. . . . whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyy?
And those stories you hear of people who are so incredibly submissive to the will of God in the face of unspeakable tragedy?
Yeah, not us.
There was a lot of ER hallway wall pounding from Daniel -- God, no, no, no, no, God! A lot of screaming no, no, no, no, God from me {in pillows, in the car with the windows rolled up, into his little fire hat}.
I've told God that it's too hard.
I've told Him that I don't want to do this.
But I am not shaking my fist at my Heavenly Father.
People, on the other hand. . .
I need so much grace for relationships right now.
I am so weak.
My flesh is so strong.
It is so tempting to nurse bitterness.
To be slow to forgive.
To allow wounds to fester instead of heal.
To close my heart to anyone who is less than superhuman. Our friends & amazing family - yes, you guys - you are superhuman. {everyone can't be superhuman? what?}
Yuck.
God - can You drown out the bitterness. . .
the anger
the hatred
the wounds that seem too deep to heal?
You can heal.
You are way strong enough to fix our broken hearts.
You can supply the oil of forgiveness.
My cup is so empty, Lord.
There isn't anything in my heart left to give. . .
. . . but You are the Giver of Life.
You are also the Giver of Eternal Life.
I love You for that tonight - the promise of eternity with You.