When you’re grieving for someone that you lived with–someone who was part of your “normal” every day living, for a while it clouds every aspect of living. It’s as if you go through the motions, but the “inner” you is watching life go on– all the while screaming “This isn’t right!…None of this is normalContinue reading “Sausage Burrito”
It’s shocking and heartbreaking to see so many families hurting and I can’t help but contemplate the effects of grief on our current society. Realizing that everyone’s grief journey is different, I do think there are a few things that I have learned on my own journey that I’d like to share.
Some days I just can’t-
look at your pictures,
listen to your voice,
hold your things,
hear your songs…
Life goes on, but my heart still hurts. We knew that after the hard past couple of years, that we needed to move forward and take a family trip. Usually family vacations are so fun to plan and there’s so much to look forward too, but when you’re grieving, even vacation planning looses it’s excitement. It becomes one of those things that you know is good for you, but you’re just not feeling it.
I’ve never considered myself to be an “artsy” type. The older I’ve gotten though, the more I value creating and practicing the arts. When I was growing up, my love for sports always came before piano practice. My artwork was always considered average by the art teacher, and I never won a coloring contest or had my picture chosen to represent anything extraordinary. That’s ok. I think early on, I realized that doing something artsy, was more of a blessing for myself than for others.
The tears came and that’s ok. I needed to let them out. I’m healing, but I’m not healed. Mother’s Day was a reminder that I won’t get what my heart truly longs for until we’re ALL together in heaven.
Because of those songs, I learned some very valuable promises of God and experienced watching the joy on my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles faces as we sang about heaven someday.
I know that I have been blessed, but my grief tells me otherwise and reminds me of all the things that have been taken away from me because she’s gone. We’ll never get to experience the joys of seeing her graduate, marry, have children, etc… the list could go on and on.
Tomorrow is your birthday. Such a special day to us and always celebrated, but this year it feels so different. I still want and need to celebrate you, but there is such a cloud of grief still hanging over my head because I just ache to be near you… to hear your laugh, see your smile, and look into your eyes. What I wouldn’t give to hug you! That cloud lifts at times and I’m able to feel the warmth of the sun. It’s helping.
In the quiet
Dead on the inside
Still within my grief
You whisper to my broken heart…