Dear Mark,
I miss you more with each passing day. The fact that you are no longer here still surprises me...each time I see your picture or think of your sweet hugs...I lose my breath. My heart seems to stop and all the world goes dark. There is a part of me that just can't accept your death, no matter how hard I have tried. And I have tried...how I have tried.
Why do I struggle daily to convince myself of the truth? The truth that you are in Heaven...in perfect peace and happiness with Jesus Himself. Why can't I put aside the sadness and move on by just anticipating the day that I will hold you again? Why can't I just be glad for the two years that I had you here with me and not grieve for the years that will never be. The pain is so twisted and complex. Like trying to count the grains of sand on a beach...there is no end.
I'm not sure why writing a letter to you helps. I'm not entirely sure that you are even aware of what is happening with us now. I hope that your time in Heaven is but an instant before I am there. Not that I am fooling myself into thinking that you could possibly need me somehow...but I need you. Somehow, I have to be your mother, even in your absence. My heart just can't let go.
Lately, I have asked God for assurance...assurance that you are okay. Any little "sign" that would give me a measure of peace and get me through the day. Something that will blindside me and leave me with one less question. So far...nothing. Maybe it is wrong to ask. Maybe I should be reading my Bible more and trusting everything on faith. Before you died, I would have believed that. Now, I cry out for God to just appear to me and tell me that it will all be okay...that God has a plan, that Heaven is real, that you are there, that I will be there soon and that this earthly life is fleeting . I need a divine revelation...a dream...anything! I am having to test and re-prove everything that I have ever accepted in faith. Of course, I am always led back to God's truth. Without it, there would be no hope...no reason to live at all.
Each day, there is at least one moment where I want to give up. This level of emotional distress is no kind of life. Will I even be able to make it through the rest of my life like this? I outwardly celebrate each day with your daddy and your sisters...playing, laughing and honestly loving the time with them. Inwardly, the pain of losing you eats away at me...like a battle raging inside. A fight for my sanity. However, no matter how difficult it is to go on, I will continue to function. I will continue to fight through the tears so that your sisters will not suffer any more than they already have. They need me.
I'm not sure how others view my grief...your daddy's grief. Do people think that it is time that we just moved on? Do they want us to "just be happy already!"? I don't know. There is no way to explain what missing you feels like...no words, no description. It almost seems that we are destined to live a life of seclusion because we are different, changed. We are living every parent's worst nightmare and not sure what tomorrow holds.
What I do know is that we miss you...with each beat of our heart and each second that ticks away we long to hold you again. We will always be your mommy and daddy and you will always be our Marco Polo, our Marky Poo...our son.
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A Spacious Place
1 year ago
you must remember there is no time limit on grief, and anyone whom tries to assign one is insane.. its not natural to outlive our children, our bodies, souls, spirits just aren't meant to handle it.. I personally try not to worry about what others think. I buried my daughter, while others loved her, she was/is MY daughter.. no one loves our kids as much as their own moms and dads.. I think we all have days where its surreal, almost like it never happened..I will walk into her room, or think of buying something for her, and have to remind myself, she's not here.. but we are..we need to honor them by living life to the fullest.. loving on our other children even more..and I've just recently "met" you *your blog* but it seems like you are doing a wonderful job! ((hugs))
ReplyDeleteI think Mark does see you. He sees your sadness. He doesn't feel it because there is only pure joy and happiness in Heaven, but he does see it. I think when you get those brief peaceful moments, it's him wrapping his arms around you. I don't think our loved ones go to Heaven and never turn back. I sincerely think they watch us and become one of our guardian angels. Why God brought home your beloved Mark, is something we will never know for now. You are forever his mom, even in Heaven. He will always need you and want you. I think even in Heaven, he wants you, but knows that God needs you on earth for now.
ReplyDeleteHappy Mother's Day! Mark and your girls are so blessed to have such a loving mom. May God give you the strength needed to celebrate Mark's life today and being the best mother to him in the days that God gave you with him here on this earth.
ReplyDeleteDear Angie,
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother (who passed away last year at the age of 94) had a brother named Bus (Charles actually, but his older sister nicknamed him bus when she was trying to say "brother"). In May of 1923 when my grandmother was 8 years old and Bus was 10, he drowned in the Penobscot River in Maine. My great-grandmother was pregnant at the time with my great-uncle Bobby. My grandmother and her older sister raised Bobby for the first 10 years of his life. My great-grandmother was paralyzed with grief and just couldn't function.
My great-grandmother did finally find a way back into a new reality where she could be happy and look forward to each new day. But she always carried Bus in her heart and he was ever present in her life. I read some of her letters written to friends and her own children in the 40's and 50's. Decades after losing her oldest son, she would still bring him up in what others might think was an unrelated subject. But to her, he was part of everything. My grandmother was the last of her siblings to go and when my mom went through her things, she found some of Bus's belongings... his last school id card, his mechanical pencil, his school grades. My grandmother also carried Bus with her to her last breath and told me many of her memories of her best buddy.
You are doing as well as any mother who loses a child can do in this world - better than many. Somehow you are giving your daughters the love and joy that they deserve, even while such a large part of your heart is missing. One day - even if it's 10 years down the road - it will be easier... but Mark will forever be a giant part of your heart and present in everything, even when others don't see it. And your daughters will also carry him and 80 or 90 years from now, their own grandchildren will know about Mark.
So don't worry about what others might think about your grief. Lots of people do have that "time to move on" view on grief... they aren't living it and don't realize that you never "move on"... you just figure out how to get through each day as best you can.
Hugs,
Christena
ps - I so hope you get that sign soon... maybe you'll get to feel Mark's sweet baby kiss in a soft breeze that brushes your cheek.