Grief is a hard topic to tackle. It takes on many forms, and floods at any given moment.
When we first let Emma go, I was numb. I do not remember much of anything from the week that followed her death (and the rest of the month fades in and out). I do remember waking up the next morning in my bed, instead of the hospital bed where I had spent the last 4 months. I remember thinking “she is really gone, that was really it.” I remember going to the funeral home and looking at little heart urns. I remember the uncontrollable crying and the looking for her every day.
Every where I looked, I could see her. When I went to get in my car, I would stop and open the back door, the door where her car seat used to be. When I would pick up my house, I would find spoons (she loved spoons) in the places that she use to sit, and I would just leave them. I would find rubber bands with her hair still in them, and I would sob.
I missed her so much, I still do. Yet, over time the missing is “different”, more manageable in a way that only those who have lost someone can understand.
“The firsts”, people say, are the hardest. (Yet I have to somewhat wonder, what about “the seconds”, “the sevenths”) We have gone through the first birthday, the first thanksgiving, the first Christmas. Yet, I do not think that next years holidays will be any easier. You still miss them, you still cry over them, you still long for the day that you will hold them again.
It becomes easier, but still the missing isn’t erased by the space of time.
I wrote a post 7 months after she had passed. I wrote about the last time I ran my fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead. I was struggling with a lot of things when I wrote that, but the biggest thing was guilt.
I can honestly tell you that grief and guilt go hand in hand. Guilt is satan’s main tool to defeat, and he used it mightily when it came to me. He often reminded me that I was the one how told them to turn off the machines, I was the one who essentially gave up on her. That I was the one who walked away.
I struggled with that. I still struggle with that. But, I know that satan is the master of lies, and that I did everything in my power to make sure that Emma had a wonderful, love filled life. No one could love her the way I did. No one knows the heartache and anguish I experienced on that day, except for my Savior. He held my heart all the way through.
There was a time through my grieving process that I couldn’t pray. I had no words. I couldn’t bring myself to say what God already knew. It wasn’t that I was angry at Him, I just couldn’t go over it anymore. Then, I couldn’t pray enough, because I felt guilty (there is that nasty word again) that I hadn’t prayed.
I longed for people to talk to me about her, yet no one knew what to say. I was astonished at how everything in the world went on with out her. I longed for people to say her name, yet I knew when people would, they would look at me through sorrow-filled eyes.
People are just that, people. It is hard when you are grieving not to take everything personally. Others do not now what to say, and often times they say things that they shouldn’t. (For example, someone told me with a smile on their face “At least now you will have more free time.”)
It is so easy when you are in the middle of grief to become self focused and offended.
One thing I have learned since Emma died (and trust me, I am still learning) is that everyone is hurting, and no one persons hurt is more or less important than the other. There are degrees of “pain”, but they are all are still “pain” . I am reminded daily that there is a world of hurting people outside my front door that need to hear the story that will change their lives.
The story that sent an innocent man to die for sins that He didn’t commit, for people that didn’t believe He was who He said He was. A story that removes all guilt from the equation and replaces it with everlasting peace.
I cant say that I know what your pain feels like each and every day. I do know what it feels like to have a child living a medically fragile life. And it is very hard not to get wrapped up in the, “Why don’t people know how hard this?” It isn’t ever easier, it never goes away. There never seems to be an answer.
I hurt for your loss and hope that you know your grief isn’t in vain…God is using it.
Hello Friend,
Love you. I think about our talk in FL after Grayson’s accident and being with you was like ointment to a wound. I could breath a little bit easier. God is using you and continues to use Emma, even in her abscence from us. Thanks for the words that continue to minister to my soul.
Michelle
Hello,
I don’t remember how I found your blog but I’ve been reading you the past few months. Blunt is what I know so from experience the first are hard but the rest are difficult as well. I have not lost a child but we lost my father 10 years ago this past Christmas. I still grieve for him especially at Christmas, his birthday and father’s day. Sometimes it can feel as raw as that first year and sometimes not. My heart goes out to you. Guilt is hard and as a family we had to make the same unthinkable decision you did with your daughter. I struggled with that decision and the guildt/anger I felt afterwards for many years. In time I came to believe we made the best decision at that time with the information we had. Yes, satan tries to plant doubts all the time, still! In those moments say a prayer for strength to help you through. God be with you.
I sure wish I had words that would comfort right now.
*hug*
Oh Sister!! I haven’t been by the blogging world to check on my fellow bloggers in a LONG time and I had no idea you were/had been going through this. My heart broke and I was bawling as I read your post. I was crying due to the pain you must have been going through (even though I do not know how it feels and I won’t pretend that I do) but also that I see your faith in Christ and His grace coming through each word you wrote. You have encouraged my heart so much through this post. I too have been going through some tough times but NOTHING like what you have been. But yet God used you to minister to my heart through your words. THANK YOU!!! I will be praying for you as you heal from all that has happened. And it will take time for sure. But PRAISE THE LORD you have HIM to help you through. Where would we be without Him? Love you!!!
I love you so very much. I could not be more proud of you.
Forever and Always
Dad
Blessings to you, Heather.
I think of you so often and pray for you always.
THANK YOU, Heather. Your heart is so honest and pure and it speaks to us in ways we all need to hear. Thank you for being you for me today!!!! I am praying for you.
I have not walked this type of pain. But what you write here is so beautiful. I think of you often Heather. I pray for you as well. I know the Lord is close to you through this journey. Thank you for this beautiful perspective.
May God continue to hold you in the palm of His hand…blessings
I think your writing these things on your blog can be a tremendous blessing to others who go through (or have gone through) such loss. No two people are the same, grief is so multi-faceted and different for everyone, and there is no way to know how one will deal with it. I’ve walked some of this with a friend of mine whose son died in a car accident 8 years ago (oh my gosh – I can’t believe it’s been that long). He was 27, getting married in two months, and was one of my husband’s best friends. I’ve learned so much in being her friend though this. One thing that drives/drove her crazy is that people wouldn’t talk about him. If his name came up, they’d quickly change the subject. As if he never existed. I know people were uncomfortable, but that was so hurtful for her. Praying for you as you continue this journey. Praying For God’s purposes and love in your life.
Heather, thank you for continuing to share. I miss seeing photos of her in my news feed. . . . those eyes!
Thankful for the One who holds you closely; may He ever comfort you with the truth of His word.
Hi Heather, This is just a beautiful heart felt post. Yes, we all suffer grief in many different degrees and it all comes back to our Savior – who offers us redemption – Something the world can never offer us. I do think your and sweet Emma’s story needs to be told and shared because it brings hope to many who are suffering – because you know where the TRUTH lies in all you are going through. Bless you
It’s been 10 months since we said goodbye to my 8 year old Annie, and I, too, love to talk about her. The “missing” is so hard. Take care and I will pray for you today.