It's strange documenting time these days. Last week my daughter turned 2 months old and today my son would have been 6 months old. I look at my daughter to see the visible growth and development in her and compare it to what the books say and general knowledge of baby development as well as just marveling at each new stage she enters into. At the same time I look inward and where as I am not the same person I used to be and feel like I have grown into a completely new stage of life and development as well, I still have areas that I can mentally go to and it's like I'm frozen in time.
I saw a dear friend this past weekend that I hadn't seen in 2 years. She was hugging me and it was as if I had seen her just last week. But as I talked with her I was completely aware that I wasn't the same person she used to know. I was me, but my heart and eyes felt laden with sadness even in showing off my new daughter. I'm realizing that Zoe's story can't be told apart from telling Asher's story. So I shared with her briefly what happened this past year. And I started crying soon thereafter and I've only managed hours in between cries since. I needed to cry and I think I'm needing to feel this pain. I am grateful for the seasons of tiredness and hormone fluxuations as they allow my tears to fall freely and my heart to break with sorrow so fresh and real.
Just like I'm learning my daughters cries and her patterns and signs, I'm learning the patterns and signs of grief and the different cries that come with that. Sometimes I cry because I miss him. Sometimes I cry because I feel so alone. Sometimes I cry because it just hurts so badly I can't hardly breathe. And when I can allow it to, I cry because of a moment in time, And that is where I showed up to the burial service and broke down. My soul sat down on the grass by the car and let my body go to the service where people were gathered and where the homegoing box with his body lay. I don't know how my body made it over there because I don't think it was my choice to walk there. I still don't really understand that day even though I know it holds much significance to me as a believer. It was by far the worst day of my life.
And I thought if I wrote about how I felt about that morning then that would help me to just at least acknowledge where I was that day because to everyone that was there I was under a tent at a burial but in my mind and heart I was laying on the grass by the road crying and kicking refusing to let this really go on. I don't know if time will process this or that it will be the way I look at it forever and that's not to say I don't think God was right there holding me, breathing grace and strength and air into me, both on the grass and under the tent. He was and still is pouring Himself into this fragile and pathetic feeling body of mine. He has sustained me beautifully to keep living and moving and loving and parenting as I live out each day, I just find myself asking Him to also sustain me to keep remembering and breathing and feeling and crying as I re-live the past.
I'm learning to embrace the sadness when I'm able to "go there". I told Dan that I will be okay in a day or two but I need to let this fall on me hard right now so I can feel it and work through some of these moments and grieve them properly, and remember them fully. Emotions and Hormones can seem like a curse but they are a blessing as well and I think a physical passage way to the depths of our soul
Rejoice with me in each new stage and healing joys that my 2 month old brings but remember with me the missed stages and heartbreaking sorrows of loving and losing my would be 6 month old. He is happy and complete in Christ and it just makes me more aware of how that is a coming reality for me someday but right now I am broken and sad.