Certainly I do not grieve as those who have no hope, yet I do grieve as a mother who cannot see her young son. And for who knows how long.
I can have lots of good days and even good times when I think of Andrew and I can smile. Even though the "missing him" never lets up ~ it just doesn't. How could it when I always miss him? It's not like he's gone off to college or gotten married and moved away. (Not at 12.) Then I could call him and look forward to holiday breaks. There are no more real conversations between us. Only the ones in my heart. And they are a poor substitute.
I had such a beautiful time in Maryland. Our friends there and the body of Christ (new friends) at the church treated us exceptionally well.
I had my daughter with me and that helped me quite a bit, too. Before leaving home, and at the last minute, I decided to take my pillow as a "carry on." It was Andrew's pillow and I have been using it for months. I debated on whether I should take his robe with me. I always sleep with it. I did take it; I stuffed it in the pillowcase.
When I was speaking in Maryland, especially on Sunday morning when I was not so much sharing my story but teaching, I had a moment in which I felt I had "come home." It was like an inner sighing. I think that is what happens when we experience our spiritual gifting.
Tuesday on the flight home, the realization that I was returning home but there would not be Andrew there, washed over me. And the tears flowed. My daughter put her arm around me until I could control my tears.
Friday my husband had surgery to remove the rod from his leg and the last two pins (ski accident on 1/09). They called me back to the recovery room and it looked so much like an ER that my heart began to pound. And then I heard that awful beaping of the monitor. I remembered that sound and it brought back the anguish of Andrew's pain.
Saturday I ran in the Miles For Hope (brain cancer research) 5k. I saw posters honoring the survivors or memorializing those who did not survive. From what I could tell they were all adults. I did not make a poster for Andrew. I just felt it was too soon. I didn't want to "put him out there" in that way. And anyway we had the Team Andrew shirts. That felt right and it felt like enough for now.
Sunday I went to church with my oldest son. My daughter stayed home to assist her dad.
Through parts of the service I hung my head and hot tears landed on my linen skirt.
On the way home, we stopped at the gravesite and I dusted off the plastic name plate. It was broken in two places. (We have not yet ordered the permanent marker but feel that now is the time. It's been hard to think about that.)
Yesterday the tears would simply not stop for long. I asked God to please help me.
"Help me feel better. What's going on with me? Please help me."
I took my camera outside and took three pictures that mirrored my feelings ~ the purple flower with its blooms drooping, the crepe myrtle devoid of her lacy, pink blooms, the fallen tree grown too big for its container. Through tears I took pictures.
I debated on whether I should share my feelings here.
Grateful ~ Thank you for sending encouragement my way. Thank you for praying for me.
I am very grateful for you.
This song is soothing to me.
|Andrew at 9 years old.|
I just wanted to share a picture with you that I've never posted. Isn't my boy handsome? See that dimple on his right cheek? He has 3 freckles at the bottom curve of his left ear. They form a smile. I used to trace them and then kiss those freckles. Andrew and I called them "freckers." And almost every day I would tell him, "It's 'kiss the freckers day' and then you know what would happen. I often wonder what he will look like when finally I see him again in Heaven.
Grateful ~ "For I know that my Redeemer lives,
And He shall stand at last on the earth;
And after my skin is destroyed, this I know,
That in my flesh I shall see God.." Job 19:25-26
This scripture has been going through my mind lately.