It has been a bit difficult with the girls back in school...I sure do miss them. Just me and Maegan here. I do cherish the time with just her though, well, except when she is pushing every button on the computer keyboard and pulling the mouse off of the desk! :)
There have probably been other posts that I have written regarding how grief sneaks up on me every day...several times a day in fact. It happens still...often...without warning. One minute I can actually be having an "okay" day. Not really dwelling on Mark being gone, but just living my day and feeling a little smile creep across my face. And then, WHAM! Something. Anything. Everything seems to remind me of how Mark is gone. There are many, many times each day that something gets to me, but they are usually the same things every day. Seeing his pictures or his toys...talking about him with the girls and with Joe. They are still so difficult, but I am learning how to get through the "expected" surprises. Then, there are those ugly, uninvited and unexpected surprises.
Day before yesterday it wasn't even having to drive past the cemetery where his little body is buried. We don't visit it often because it just never helps. So, driving by is almost as painful, but we do it frequently and it is starting to lose its sting...ever so slowly. No, it was pulling over on the side of the road for a funeral procession. That was it and I was done for. All that I could think about was our procession for Mark. Remembering his uncles carrying the casket down the sidewalk and putting my only son into the back of the hearse. The hundreds of cars driving to the cemetery and remembering looking out of my window and being in absolute awe at the sight of so many people that loved him...that love us. I began to think of the burial, the sadness, the shock and the raw pain that is so unbelievably real. It never really does go away, but there are many times that all of the emotion can be kept just below the surface, just waiting for any little reminder to cause it to erupt. That's just the way it is.
This morning it was the purse that I haven't used for a couple of years now. I pulled it down yesterday to use since I was leaving my normal purse (aka "the diaper bag") with Grandma. No big surprises yesterday while I was actually using it, but as I was picking it up off of the coffee table this morning, I just happened to see a receipt at the bottom. It turns out that it was a receipt from Wal-Mart from the end of June of 2008...just a little over a month before Mark died. As if that wasn't enough already, I realized that this was the receipt for Mark's birthday present. His Little Tikes basketball hoop. A gift that I couldn't wait to buy because I knew how much fun he would have with it. Caught off guard, again. Bawling like a baby...again. How I would love to be outside with him right now playing basketball.
That's just the way it is.
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A Spacious Place
11 months ago
So sorry. It hurts so terribly
ReplyDeleteLoving Laynee and Missing Mark
Angie, I think about you daily.
ReplyDeleteI wonder, does it feel strange that people are praying for you and they don't even know you? But I feel like I do, a little bit. Your words, your way of expressing how you feel, your music...each tells a little bit about the person you are. A person who is trusting the Lord when the cost is highest and the storm has not stopped.
This made me think of you, too - from "Living After Losing A Child: Beyond Tears" -
"I had difficulty breathing. I was constantly sighing out loud. There's no refuge from the pain. You crave peace and there is none. It's an awful place to be. The pain is unrelenting."
When I see a Walmart receipt, I think of you. I think, why does it have to be like this? A world where a Walmart receipt can have so much pain and loss attached to it?
The other thing is how often I cry for what your family has lost - not only for Mark as he was, but Mark as he would have been if he were alive now, if he had the chance to grow up and become a young man, and later, a Daddy.
How does it feel that strangers are crying for the loss of your son and his life? I wonder if it feels invasive or even insensitive...how can I cry and feel so much pain for Mark when I never got to know him? But I do feel for you, so much, so much.
And I know that everything I feel is nothing compared to what you feel. Bearing it must be truly unbearable.
Just know you're not forgotten. Ever.
In Heaven, I will hug you and say hello in person - and you'll be holding Mark in your arms. Oh, God. How do we wait for that day?
You and your family matter. You really, really matter - to more people than you would guess.
Cathy in Missouri
pouzel@juno.com