Today, I’m sitting here with so many thoughts running through my mind, all the while with the heaviest heart imagineable. I’m preparing to move with my husband and son. It’s a distraction for me, but at times I’m stopped dead in my tracks and given a huge dose of reality. I have pscho-analyzed myself and situations from the beginning of my earliest memories. That could work against me, sometimes it saves me. Today, I’m hoping that it’s towards my benefit that I’m going through it once again.
Several years ago, I heard somebody say that a person won’t go through anything more than what God has been through….that includes temptations.
This morning, I was contemplating Erica, my loss, Bradens’ loss of his mother, and how that pertains to God.
Did God lose His mother? Did Yeshua (Jesus) lose His mother? I know that He went to Lazarus when he died. He wept, and grieved that his friend had died. But then He raised Lazarus from the dead. He raised a 12 year old girl who had died. How many more did He raise from the dead? I don’t remember reading where He lost somebody near and dear to Him for eternity. I read that He gave His life for us. He allowed others’ to kill him. They tortured Him. We hear and read about God sending His only son to die on the cross. We hear about God’s loss. But, we don’t see God. He isn’t tangible. Yeshua had a mother…Mary. Everybody knew about her. She was a real human being….tangible….flesh and blood. She conceived him by the Holy Spirit. Still, she carried him for 9 months and gave birth to him. She raised him. He was her child. Why don’t we hear of her loss of her son, “God”? She had many more children after him, but how did she handle the grief of watching him be tortured? She must have had second thoughts about who he was. She must have been beside herself while watching him die! Her grief must have been very difficult. But, we don’t know, because the Bible doesn’t speak of that. Why not?
Why does losing 1 child stop you dead in your tracks to the point where you’re so frozen in time, you don’t seem to be able to cope with life, proceed on in a normal manner, or even take care of your other children the way they need you? Your views of life are skewed, and it doesn’t seem like there’s any light at the end of the tunnel. We just expect everybody else to go on living their normal lives around you because you’re too undone to participate in anything.
This child of mine was conceived inside my body. She started growing. If she was born too early, she wouldn’t have lived. I took very good care of myself to ensure that she would be healthy. With every movement inside me, I cherished it. It was amazing to me that a baby was actually growing inside my body. She would kick, she would just slightly move a limb, she would get the hiccups, she would bear down and cause pain. She was part of me. I had great anxiety and fear just prior to giving birth. I was scared shitless of the pain I was about to endure. (NO EPIDURALS BACK THEN). I had and to this date never endured such pain as giving birth to her. (Even with the birth of my 3rd child). She would resemble me in a way like no other human on this earth would. She would sound just like me when she grew up. People had trouble telling us apart on the phone at times. She had my eye color. She was so much like me that we didn’t get along at times. I knew why. She knew why. We always agreed to disagree. She would take it in stride. She was my child. Nobody could take that from me. Nobody could take that from her. She grew from me, like my arm grew from my body. Losing her was like losing a limb. I still feel her there. I used to believe that if one of my children died, how would I handle it? I just knew that I would curl up in a ball, and cry and cry and cry until I died. I just knew that I would die. Of course I didn’t….Of course, I didn’t think about the remaining children. I didn’t give it a second thought about other people in my life who would need me to carry on. But, dying myself would be too easy. I would be gone. I HAVE to live. I HAVE to feel this pain. A pain worse than giving birth. The pain of childbirth seems to just disappear the minute you look into your baby’s face. Your baby is worth any amount of pain you endure. The pain of death lingers. It doesn’t go away. In the beginning, it’s too much to even endure. We go into shock. Disbelief. When it finally hits, it’s like a deep dreaded ball of fear in the pit of my stomach. With every memory of the day that I heard, I go through the same emotions all over again. Am I in denial when I push those memories away? I don’t think so. I’ve allowed (and continue to do so) myself to go through the emotions and feelings as they come to me. I’m getting better. They’re fewer and farther apart now. I’m starting to open my eyes when I get up. I’ve realized that just because my child is no longer on this earth, doesn’t mean that she’s still not part of me. She will ALWAYS be in me. An extension of me. Just the same as my other 3 children. The clouds are lifting. I can see blue sky.
I’m clumsily fumbling through my new normal.
When Erica left this earth, yes, she took part of me with her. But, the hole that is healing has glitter around it. She liked glitter. She liked glamour. In my heart and mind, that’s how she’ll be remembered. I also believe with my whole heart that’s how God sees us. We are His children. He doesn’t want to see the negative….only the good in us. Only what makes us happy in the purest sense. I believe that I want to do my best to focus on that.
Erica, you’re my glitter and glamour! Thank you for that revelation.
We all are here on this earth because we were meant to be born. We are also meant to die. That’s a fact. Nobody can escape the inevitable.
We all just need to find our “glitter”.