This photo was taken one year ago– exactly one year ago when I had BJ and we went on a morning walk and dreamt of babies and a trip to Ireland. One year ago when he decided to make an Irish feast and prepped and shopped and cooked an epic corned beef and cabbage dinner all by himself. One year ago when we had our dear friends over for what was a magical evening of food and friendship in the front room of our Inwood apartment.
If you had asked me then where I’d be in one year I would have said in New York City with my husband and a baby in my belly. But today I was in GriefShare, crying and talking with people who have all lost loved ones. Thinking about last year. Thinking about BJ. Thinking about how it’s been almost nine months since I’ve seen him. Thinking about how so very different life is now.
An update? It’s been a hard week after some very good weeks.
As I move forward, I heal and I grieve. I have good days and bad. I try to be honest, be emotionally healthy, not suppress, not sugar coat, not go numb. I have despair and confusion and sorrow amidst the hope and peace and joy.
But today was extra hard.
Today triggered me. So much sadness. So much lost.
I remembered our dreams.
I remembered the pride BJ felt as he presented his home-cooked meal.
I remembered life in New York and holding hands and feeling loved and wanted and hopeful and excited about the future.
I remembered thinking we were approaching the time when God would add to our family, not a time when He’d subtract.
Today I remembered grief.
And I had been feeling so good lately that I had put aside, for a time, the dark pain that is loss.
But as I felt sad I was comforted by the fact that I mourn BECAUSE what I had was so good and so precious and so worth it.
I despaired BECAUSE my loss was and is so sad and so bad and so hard and so not how things are meant to be.
But then I also had hope. That nagging, persistent, unshakeable hope.
Hope in Christ.
Hope in Heaven.
Hope that God will redeem my life, will restore what has been lost.
So I’ve been feeling a lot of things. And most of them opposites.
(The extremes of both hope and despair could be the hardest thing about grief.)
Grief is hard.
And with that I have been humbly asking my Abba for help.
And I humbly ask that you would pray
For me on this St. Patrick’s Day.
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