Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Grief Is A Horrible Thing

Be still, and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

I was all ready to write a post yesterday morning. But....

In my reading on Saturday by Anne Voskamp two things jumped out at me. Even though I had read this post before, different circumstances and different times in my life make me see things in a new way. She said, "Life is not an emergency," and "You can only hear your life sing--when you still."     When    you    still.
I was listening to the birds sing. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and nothing was calling for my attention. I could still and just listen. I was able to genuinely thank God for Amy's death. I know it is God's plan and she is so wondrously happy and I was happy for her. I could thank Him without tears.

Sunday was a really good day. I was able to thank the ladies in my Sunday School class for all their sweet gifts, even though I ended up crying. We saw a video by Sheila Walsh, a funny lady with a very meaningful message about what we see in the mirror and what God sees in us. Church was great with singing of old hymns this week and the teen choir having a special number. Then the Pastor had a short sermon on Striving for Mastery and ended with one of my favorite verse:
Philippians 4:8  "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." 
Then we had a baptism of one sweet young girl. When the curtain to the baptismal was pulled up, the sobs started. I didn't think it would bother me, because baptism is such a joyful thing to me. But all I could see was last November when Amy was baptized. If we knew we were only going to have her for four more months, would her Daddy have held her for a few more minutes before handing her to Pastor to baptize?  Would Pastor have held her tighter and not been worried about getting water in her mouth? What would any of us have done if we knew we only had four more months? 
I was able to get control of myself by the time the service was over and our family went out to eat. Just the four of us. We sat in a booth. Not often have we sat in a booth as a family. Booths don't accommodate wheelchairs too easy. But I was able to be happy and even laugh. Some friends of ours were there and they have the sweetest little grand-baby with red hair. I just love him to pieces! How can anyone be sad around a sweet little boy! I napped most of the afternoon and that evening we watched the continuing saga of  "Alaska The Last Frontier" and "North America" on Discovery Channel. It was a good day and I felt that maybe I was turning a corner, getting a handle on this grief thing. 

Then Monday morning came.

I received a sweet email from a young friend who has to sing on Sunday and she wanted to know if I could send her some photos of Amy to use in a slide show she is doing while she sings. The song is "Beautiful for Me." I had never heard it before so I watched it and it brought the tears. The video is posted below. It even has Veggie Tales in it. Little did I know that it was to be a day full of crying. Everything that happened brought tears. I had to contact our insurance company because they only sent half of Amy's life insurance. I have never talked to such an uncaring arrogant agent before. I think he is in the wrong business!  I then noticed on Facebook that my daughter-in-law had posted a picture of her and my son. He looks so old! They are 2000 miles away and won't be home for another three weeks.  His birthday is today and he is 24. Where did 24 years go? It was just yesterday that they all looked like this:

Easter 1990
I also made a call to the folks we got our van from. http://www.mitscorp.com/  The man I talked to was so nice. He wants to work with us to help us sell our van and he gave his condolences and said that he knew we would need time to part with it. I of course cried again when I told him why we needed to sell it and then when I got off the phone I realized that it would be horrible to part with it. It is one more piece of Amy that we will be getting rid of. But it needs to be done. I cried at supper. My husband took me to the cemetery and I sobbed and sobbed there and my youngest daughter and husband held me. I thought I had this grief stuff controlled and then it hit me in the face again. 

I know now that it is going to take time. This morning I woke up ready to face my day. At therapy my physical therapist told me that my knee is going to take a lot more time to heal, 
I know my soul will also.
I thank God and praise Him for caring compassionate people. 
I thank Him for music. I thank Him for little red haired boys. 
I thank Him for 24 years of life that He has given my "little" boy. 
And I thank Him most for the life of Amy. My angel.


Always giving thanks to God the Father for everything.
 Ephesians 5:20a  


  1. Waves of fresh grief. That's what I am experiencing today. It began as I drove home. I had to talk to the people at Picaboo because the yearbook is totally messed up, and I got to thinking about when I was working on it - I was at your house. And I just started sobbing and have been off and on for the last few hours. I keep thinking, but I was just an occasional aunt. Not mmama or daddy or sisters or brother. And I cry harder because I was just an aunt and I can't imagine your grief. And I wish I could hug you tight and not let go. I love and miss you so much.

  2. You were and are more than just an occasional aunt. Amy loved you and your family so much, as do my other kids. I miss your hugs and have precious memories of Amy's last days with you helping us.