The Offer of Silence

I was thinking about my son today, and had to shed some tears. I think about him everyday but tears don’t always flow. Interesting enough I cried because of a thought. I saw my youngest brother’s face the day of his service. Up until the service I hadn’t seen him cry. He was in help mode and supported me during that week. As the service ended and we walked outside the Sanctuary I turned left and saw him breaking down. It broke me. And after 11 years it still does. I can never get that image out of my mind. Even before the thought of thatI was watching tv and a young lady was having a baby. I thought about my birth story. Eliyah was my firstborn. My brother was also there for his delivery. He was my lamaze coach. He also named his Email with Eliyah’s name. There was such a bond from the beginning and knowing what he felt in that moment when he finally released at the church hurts to remember. I knew that his pain ran very deep. He sat with me everyday. Not offering pointless words, etc. but just his presence. It was a great comfort to me.

I had lunch with my youngest daughter earlier this week. She was 7 when Eliyah died. She is now 18. We were having a great conversation and somehow it led to me remembering some things that happened during that initial week, the day of the service, and the days following. she started to tell me the things she remembered but said it was in pieces. I suppose I’m happy that she doesn’t remember so much. I wish I could block many things from that time. The talk shifted to my mother. She called me and told me one day “You know, you aren’t the only one who misses him”. I thought uhhh duh I know that, and don’t need you to tell me. I wasn’t even sure why she would say something like that. As I already felt depleted. I explained to my daughter that it was like you have the deepest wound and you’re bleeding out profusely but you have to put bandages on the ones with superficial wounds. Everyone is hurt. But you can’t attend to your wounds because you are helping everyone else with their wounds. Many around don’t know how to help you or once the service is over they disappear. So you are left figuring your new life out alone. I was telling her about the selfishness I experienced from some. Now I’m not talking about my mother. She wanted me to know that she was hurting too and seeing me hurt as well compounded it. But the timing was off. Silence would have been a great idea.

In the bible when Job lost all that he had and his friends came they sat with him. They initially came to be sit with him and comfort him. For 7 days they sat in silence before saying anything. But as soon as they spoke the unhelpful misery ensued. Unsuccessful comfort. Sure their intentions were good but are good intentions enough? I can’t answer as to why bad things happen. I don’t understand the secrets of God’s wisdom. Why God allows what he allows. Job never lost his faith.

I think about that in the midst of suffering, hard times, grief. What is needed is compassion, encouragement, hope, patience while suffering, and sometimes perhaps silence. Weep with others, mourn as they mourn, and exclude any judgement. Words can do little to soothe. What I’ve experienced is that when those that sat with me and just let me be allowed me to feel peace. You hear always that “I don’t know what to say” that’s ok.

Grief is complex in all of its stages for an infinite amount of time. The memories, the thoughts, etc. Sometimes people see you and because you now cry less in public, and you’ve now re-engaged more in society, and they see you experiencing more joy, and laughter, they believe the pain has lessened. When really I’ve learned to survive. Grief resides with joy. I have strong days, and I have days that moves to be too much to carry. Some days I feel like a stranger in my own life. But through it all, I’ve learned that God is the source of my blessing. We must trust God thru the uncertainty, and trust him for what we do not and can not understand thru our circumstances.

Unknown

The death of a loved one is so abrasively shocking to your system. The loss of my son Eliyah has been a journey that even when I close my eyes, if I choose and sometimes when I don’t I am catapulted immediately to the day he died.

Death brings unknowns. You ask the why’s… they seem to go on and on. Even if you had an answer, The question of why would still rear itself to your mind in some fashion. What if it’s unknown? What if there is no tangible reason? What if you had to just accept what has happened and begin the brutal task of healing. Yes healing is brutal. It takes time, it’s painful, it leaves scars to remind you of what happened. Sometimes healing is not what we think it should look like. Sometimes how you picture it, the exact opposite is what you are faced with, and now you must adapt accordingly.

Eliyah’s cause of death was SUDEP. Sudden Unexplained Death in Epilepsy. I will focus on the second word. Unexplained. It means it is not accounted for, there is no identifiable cause. It is Unknown. How unnerving right? If you are someone who needs answers it is a mental drive to the crazy house because there is not an answer. I like satisfaction. I want to know reasons, and sometimes my overthinking mind needs a reason for the reason. And yet here I was dealing with a death that had no reason behind it. And furthermore why my child?

Sometimes it’s fear of the unknown that makes our minds scream. What if? What about? etc. This year specifically has challenged many of us to the core for several different reasons. A world pandemic. So many unknowns involved about how we should move forward to stay healthy. Many of you lost a loved one this year, or a job, I have a friend who lost her beautiful home in a fire. Where do you start? Where do you go from here? So many unknowns.

When my mother was sick, my dad used to tell her take one thing at a time. Slow down, don’t try to do it all at once. Sometimes we must acknowledge that steps must be taken. For example if you want to bake a cake, You follow certain steps first. You don’t just throw all in the oven. Certain ingredients must be mixed. Gotta follow the steps 1 thing at a time. Healing of a loved one especially is a process. You don’t heal all at once. I wish it was that easy. A simple process.

Grief is an unknown. It carries with it many, many facets. It carries with it no timeline, no proper way of “grieving right” no such thing, it scares people away, yet can also make people want to draw closer to you to help you through. It affects one person in one way, and to another a different way. No rhyme or reason. It’s complicated. It has stages. the stages are not in any specific order and can last a lifetime of not. Unknown.

So how do we handle the unknown? Do we know? Is there a playbook out there with the plays? An answer key in the back of a book? Is there a guru high upon a mountain who has all the answers? I chose, yes chose to rely on faith. The bible says in Hebrews 11:1 That faith is the hope or the confidence in what we hope for and assurance/evidence about what we do not see. It means to believe completely even when there is no evidence to support. It is my foundation for my relationship with God. The very start of what matters on a spiritual side. It is my confidence that later becomes fully operational to believe his promises. It’s unseen but exists beneath what is visible.

This is what carries me. It fuels me, Drives my reasoning for how I move in life. Utilizing faith while in the unknown has allowed me to put one foot forward at a time. It is the constant abiding trust in what I can’t see. It’s like the unseen foundation of a building. You can’t see it but you know if it’s not there the building would collapse. It’s knowing it will work when it’s not apparent to my senses. It must be applied to all of life challenges. I encourage you to face the unknown head on with faith in front of you. It will make a difference in your life.

Letter to a Newly Bereaved Mom

One of my many main concerns when Eliyah passed was Survival.  How would I survive? How would I wake up and continue to live? Why did I wake up? How long will I feel like this? How long will this valley of Hells darkness consume me? Am I going crazy? These and other questions about life not being fair, and having no control, and apologizing over and over to him that this happened to him, and I his mother couldn’t do anything to stop or prevent it. Feeling anguish, overwhelming sadness, guilt, a hurt so embedded in my heart that I felt the physical manifestation of it.

Farewell on this side of eternity is a difficult journey!!!!

So to you who has recently entered this place. This place is grief. It has no respect of person. It doesn’t care that you’ve visited it many times. It will do its best to consume you and build residence within. Well, for a time it is ok.  Contrary to what we may hear others say or what we may have believed before, it is ok to not be ok. Grief is a disorienting thing.  There is a hole in your heart that wasn’t there before.  I carried a heartbeat inside of me that no longer beats, and the excruciating  pain of that is unlike any other. Grief challenges you. It makes your body weary, tires your mind, weakens your soul. It causes you to overthink, underthink, (not a real word but it’s fine) It makes you gasp for air. Grief causes every container around you to fill your tears.  Tears of heartbreak, tears of what is lost, tears of what will never be, tears of utter disbelief that this is happening, and happening to you, tears of shattered dreams, tears of lost hope, tears of slight happiness because you are still serving although you are in despair.  Every tissue box around you consumed. And just when you feel there are no more tears, a thought, memory, sound, smell, something triggers and the tears fall yet again.  I would say enough, I don’t have any more tears to cry, but here I am again with a wet pillow because my body could not withstand any other place outside my bed.

This was the loss of my son. My firstborn and only son. I knew him the longest of my children. He made me happy with kicks in my belly first. And now he is no longer living on this earth. How do you live with your heart shattered in a billion pieces? You take each moment by it’s moment. You begin to defy the impossible, withstand the storm, and take on the enormous task of Survival. This grief and mourning that you are in although irrational is survivable. Oh it rocks and shakes your foundation of what you believe. It makes you question your faith.  I asked God so many questions after Eliyah’s death. Soooooo many questions. I needed answers.I wanted answers. God said in time. But I said no. I need them now. He said in time.  And with time came healing. Healing was a very far away thought.  I needed not to feel so much pain, and I needed the antiseptic now. With time came answers to purpose. With time came strength. The reminder that love really is stronger than any other thing. The love that I have for Elijah. The love that family and friends had for me, and most importantly the love that God has for me. Love kept me afloat. It would not let me drown.

There is life after death of your child. There is hope. I have learned that I have no control over life. But, I was enduring. Every day I was bearing insurmountable pain. I was given a strength that only God could give me. He had given me grace and peace. I asked him for it. My  friend Carolyn spoke of Beauty for ashes. That is what God was giving me. This void I had, he was giving himself to me. It was a choice. I was never going to get “over” this, and shame on people who tell you that. They don’t know that you don’t get over this. There are no “at leasts” I heard all of this and more.  I thank God for the grace he gave me in those moments to just smile, walk away, because they don’t get it. Love, kindness, and grace goes a long way with others who empathize yet say things they don’t understand.  You don’t just move on, and get passed this.  I chose to survive. I chose to press my way towards healing.  It’s a choice. Be kind to yourself. You have never faced anything like this before. Trust in God doesn’t come easy. I battle for it. I’m choosing to turn my grief into gratitude for what I still have…and one day I will see Eliyah again!! Praise God!

Faith doesn’t guarantee good feelings. For me, it’s expressed thru the dark shadows….I’m praying thru the pain… So you too must pray through the pain. Grief doesn’t get better, we get better at it. This time is rough, but don’t be discouraged, do not, I repeat do not give up!! This journey is so difficult and full of complete heartache at times. I can’t wait for the day when sorrow ends. God says it will be so one day. We will see our loved ones again.  We don’t get to “choose” the obstacles that are in front of us, but to hope, to trust God is a choice and because he is my ultimate source of everything, that’s what I must do..Nothing else matters. Persevere, endure, press through and pray, and let the tears fall!! It must get better. It will get better. Through the adversity, I/We  can find rest in God’s peace…There’s comfort in his plan…

I pray that Our loving God would enfold you in His awesome arms while you journey through this painful season of your life. I pray that He will even carry you on the days that the weight seems unbearable.  Never give up on trusting God. He does great things when we don’t know why or when and turns the worst day into our best right before our eyes if we allow him to keep his place in our heart. Suffering does not create character, it reveals it. Healing on this side of Heaven will continue everyday. He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Isaiah 40:29 and for that, I’m grateful.

From a mother who knows to you…I love you all and you are always in my thoughts and prayers!