February 23, 2006

Three years ago today I began my journey of grief and suffering when my Mom died. 1095 days of life without her. I can't believe it.

Its tough to know what to do with these anniversaries. Birthdays and holidays are obviously impacted by her absence, but there's this day at the end of February that officially tracks time for me.

Three years is a long time to miss someone. It means there are new traditions, new habits, new defaults. This year when I had my annual meltdown I was blessed with Gretchen who has known me in my grief from the very beginning. Her gentle reminder that my process includes a breakdown before the anniversary which allows me to feel okay on the actual day. I hadn't realized that, but its true. The first year I was a mess for two solid weeks in February. Year two found me in bed for a week, and this year it lasted about 72 hours. I always blamed the holiday buzz wearing off, but Gretchen is right - I grieve beforehand - in fact, I've always done that.

The year before my Mom died I grieved her death. That's not to say that I was okay when the day actually arrived, but I had been walking the valley long before she took her last breath. Waiting and anticipation crush me.

I have learned so many things about myself and God in the last three years. I am not the same person I was when I moved to Boston. God's faithfulness to sanctify me in my suffering is one thing I'm most thankful for today. I'm able to see that without this season of deep sorrow I would not be who I am today - I would not know God the way I know him today. Sure, it could have happened another way, but it didn't.

I miss so many things about my Mom, but most days the sorrow and missing comes from what is to come that she won't be present to enjoy and witness. She has already missed my growing up these last three years - but more than that I look ahead to all of my siblings and I being married one day and having families and it will never be okay that she won't be there for those things.

A few years before my Mom died one of my closest friends, Rachel, died tragically in a car accident. After the funeral I was a complete and utter mess - I cried so much in that week that my ears filled with fluid and I couldn't hear a thing the day of the funeral. It was like being on an airplane. I came home and told my Mom I hated the smell of flowers. They smelled like death to me and I never wanted them around. I remember her telling me that flowers weren't meant to smell like death, but that someday I would go to a beautiful wedding and feel differently about their aroma.

I don't hate the smell of flowers, but when I go into a flower shop I do think of a funeral home, not a wedding. I can't imagine on the day of my own wedding smelling flowers and missing my Mom and having that fragrance be pleasing. I'm sure she's right - she usually was and she loved fresh flowers.

So, we're here. We made it another year and interestingly enough we're all doing really well. God has been so faithful to our family! He has restored relationships that I thought were forever marred. He has led the way into new customs and given us the space and time to maintain some of the old ones. Our lives are good. They are sometimes sad, but they are also good.

The sorrow never goes away. Grief never goes away. It transforms and looks different season by season, but its always present. I was so scared in the first year that by this time I wouldn't be that sad anymore. The thought of not being sad and missing my Mom feels like a complete impossibility, but you hear people all the time talk about how they 'got over it.' It looks different for everyone, but for me - it will always be there and I will always welcome it.

My Mom was the bravest person I've ever met. I see her in me and my siblings and Jake from time to time and it makes my heart so glad. My true joy, though, comes from the certainty that I will see her again one day and we will live in perfect love free of the brokenness of this world. My hope is in Heaven, my hope is in Christ who came to save the weak and the lost from sin and a fallen world.

I Bowed on My Knees and Cried Holy

I dreamed of a city called Glory, so bright and so fair
And as I entered the gate I cried Holy,
the angels all met me there
They carried me from mansion to mansion and oh, the sights I saw
But, then I said, I want to see Jesus, the one who died for us all

I bowed on my knees and cried Holy,
I cried Holy, I cried Holy,
I clapped my hands and sang Glory, glory to the Son of God

As I entered the gates of that city,
my loved ones all knew me well
They led me down the streets of Heaven and oh, the scenes too many to tell
I saw Abraham, Jacob and Issac.
Talked with Mark and Timothy.
Then I said I want to see Jesus, the one who died for me

I bowed on my knees and cried Holy,
I cried Holy, I cried Holy
I clapped my hands and sang Glory, glory to the Son of God.