Dear sweet grieving mom,
I wish we could be taking a walk together & just be present. No words, no expectations…just silent knowing why the quiet works.
We both know words rarely help. Often times, words end up hurting. We get that others don’t know what to say & we really don’t need them to get anything anyway. We just need to know they remember.
We need them to remember we have lost a child. We need them to not forget our child. We aren’t seeking constant doses of sympathy. We just need an ounce of silent support. A few people left in our lives that don’t forget. Others around us that see certain days are hard & acknowledge it with a ‘thinking about you’, a hug, a scripture or a silent walk. Someone left who totally gets there is no time table. It’s a forever loss.
You & I know that we aren’t “stuck” & that we have continued in life. We see the ones that are trapped & it’s so sad. They need our prayers.
We get up everyday & attempt to live out what the Lord needs us to do. Those who say, “move on” really just need our grace & forgiveness. It doesn’t help to become bitter about words spoken. They aren’t moms who have lost a child. I’m thankful for that.
We lace our warrior shoes on daily. This is our path. There is no turning back. We walk forward with bleeding hearts that no one else can see.
We desperately love the ones still here. Our body spent months sustaining the life of each child we are blessed with. A bond is formed. A connection of life. We stay present for the ones we can & a piece of us is with the one gone. We try so hard to balance.
I have no answers for the why’s. I try & stay away from why. “Why’s” drain hope. I believe the Lord goes before me & He has all of this in his hands. I trust him. I need him & I won’t turn away from him.
I know the hurt is constant & never shuts off. We go about our life & live but it’s always there. Anything can trigger an instant flashback at any given time. We walk around with an endless ache that reality has left behind. We miss & we miss hard.
The loneliness inside can swallow. It seems no one sees. We’re different now. Time doesn’t change anything. Jesus does. He patches the wounds with his comforting love. The loss….the painful ache of the heart & the crushing grief become woven with him as we sink deeper into dependence on Christ. We surrender to his compassionate care as he delicately forms our new normal.
We wait. We pray. We seek. We cry. We trust. We read God’s Word. We sob. We hurt. We get on our knees. We hand the Lord our pain because we just don’t know what else to do with it.
I know we aren’t alike. I don’t understand your loss & you don’t understand mine. The thing is….we understand that. We have a common vine. It’s called the loss of a child. We hang from it individually, yet next to one another. No two grieving mothers are exactly the same. We may be placed in a category of sameness by others but we know we are very different.
Please hear my heart. I see your eyes. I see the loss. I’m so sorry.
I miss the sound of my child’s voice too. I have regrets & unspoken words. I miss seeing his face. I miss his laugh. I grieve all the never will be’s. I want to make him cookies. I want to say I’m sorry for a thousand things. I want him to see his sister grow up. I want him to love on her. I want him to have guy time with his brothers. I want to see my kids doing life together. I want him to play with his nieces. I want to hug him. I’d give anything to wash dishes from a meal he ate. I’d take 1 minute with him. I get this part. I do. I miss mine too.
Ugh….Mother’s Day is hard. The days leading up are the pits. The day after is a different sorrow knowing the day has past & you made it through. There’s no way to explain it to anyone around you so you don’t. You lock it away & it becomes another layer to your scars. Your heart is so heavy from scars you have no idea how it stays in your chest. I’m pretty sure it’s anchored in by Jesus. Oh, blessed Savior & Redeemer.
You may feel alone on Mother’s Day. As crazy as it seems, you aren’t. There’s an army of us. We might be a million miles apart but that’s ok. I’ll be praying for you & I’d love if you’d pray for me too.