The grief and sadness of losing and missing Lacy hits at odd times. I think I'm doing well, have moved past some of the worst of the pain, when a song, or a memory hits me and I'm weeping. I've learned to let my tears flow. The tears seem to heal the pain, and if I let myself feel the loss, I'm able to move on with my day once the worst of the sorrow is over.
We never get over our loss, but we get accustomed to the loss, and the hole in our hearts is not quite so tender.
I have so many Facebook friends who are experiencing that loss right now as their children, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, siblings are dying from Huntington Disease. As I read their posts I feel afresh the pain of losing inch by inch the person you love. I remember how burying a child is impossible to fathom, even as you sit across from the closed casket. I cannot imagine the pain of losing nearly everyone you love to this disease - sometimes your spouse and all your children.
When I took my dogs, Roger and Violet, out this morning, the birds were singing. It had stormed during the night and early morning hours, but the rain had passed for the moment. Listening to the songs floating through the air, I thought How grateful they must be for a new day. It got me thinking about gratitude and the role it has played in our lives, particularly since the death of our son, Lacy.
Years ago, I learned the power of gratitude to uplift and encourage in hard times. Lacy was in the hospital, on a ventilator, with strep pneumonia. All together, he would be there for over a month. The first three weeks were the worst, since he was in ICU and we could only visit three times a day. I'd go in during the visiting hours and pray for our son, put lotion on his feet and hands, and read a story to him from his picture Bible. What relieved my anxiety the most, however, was the time I took to express gratitude. I'd list out loud what I was thankful for - a sunny day,…
I've already begun to dread the holiday season...Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve. Grief rolls back into my life like a heavy fog. I have to remind myself to walk with my back straight - I feel myself slump off and on all day long.
I know there are other folks like me out there. The constant parade of commercials depicting families joyfully celebrating; the music that seems to never, ever end; these remind me of what I've lost.
I could make a list of my losses, but that's not the point of this post.
What I've realized is that the dread of the holidays is much worse than the actual celebrating of them. I find so much joy in our families. Kenny's brother and sister-in-law will be nearby this Christmas, and we'll be able to see them much more often in the years to come. My extended family gets together at Thanksgiving, and we always have a great time. Christmas Eve services at our church comfort us in ways we have not always appreciated.…