Grief is Back On This Somber Sunday

Not sure how to write in this moment. I have wanted to blog all day. I was laying in bed after Jamison finally went down for a nap and I had this thought..."Katy there will never be a time when you will feel motivated to write about these things." Though I have wanted to blog, the time never seems "right" to enter my raw heart.

Yesterday it hit me. Life is precious and we will never be in control when God brings one of us home. I am realizing that more than ever as this year has been marked by both incredible life and overwhelming loss. My husband reminded me today that grief comes and goes and it is when we are reminded by a conversation or another hardship that the raw feelings resurface.

I am raw. I miss my sweet friend Tiffany. I think of her daughters often and wonder what it would be like to be without a mother. Damn.

Moses would have been full term by now. His face, oh his pure face. How I long to know what it would have been like to hold you, kiss your baby face, and rub your thick dark hair!

I have these images of Davey smiling while sitting in a raft of middle school girls. I miss pumping boats, gazing at stars, and wondering if Dave stole my board shorts again.

Sonny, oh Sonny. Deep thinker, humor like none other, and one who was ready to lend his hand to those in the depths of mental health.

My heart hurts for Lexie and her sweet daughter Holland. I never met her but as I hold my own son, I feel the grip of grief and loss. Oh my friend, words are not enough for experiences such as this.

The seasons are changing. I can feel it in my bones and observe it in the transition of colors around me. Death and life are too close for comfort. Even as I write about my grief and feel the presence of loss, there is a young girl playing across the street at the park. Barefoot and innocent, she runs with her dog and smiles as if suffering doesn't exist.

That's just it, the falling leaves remind me that death must occur and not all is lost. Henri Nouwen often gives me words..they don't necessarily bring comfort, but again, that's the point. He writes, “Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”

It is uncomfortable, but I think we are created with such a heart to feel. Yep to suffer and experience grief. I hope that I am not reflecting a pretty wrapped up package that has answers. My heart is raw and bleeding in this moment and I feel all sorts of things. Anger, sadness, confusion, and even a deep sorrowful joy. Some would say that's confusing, maybe ironic. That is what I think too.

Oh Jesus, my heart breaks, bleeds, and mourns. I know that you are near the brokenhearted. You hold the hearts of those that know grief and loss. I cry out for Lexie & Nick, Dakota, Margaret, Lindi, Troy & Melisa and all that are mourning the loss of our precious friends, sons, daughters, husbands, and mothers. May we stay in the midst of your comfort. Help us to not run, stuff, and/or numb ourselves because of our fears to feel. Thank you for creating me to feel.