Sorrow & Light

Tuesday, February 23rd, is the fourth anniversary of my Mother's death.

It is incredible that after four years, typing that sentence still takes my breath away. It is quite surreal.

I've spent time this weekend thinking back to the week leading up to the 23rd. It was the most emotionally intense week of my life, and each year little pieces return to me in these days as I wait for the anniversary. Most days I'd rather not re-live those days, but not this week - this week I relish being able to remember. Isn't it a truly amazing blessing that we are able to remember things? God is so masterful. I can think of all kinds of reasons that remembering is a source of strife in my life, but when it comes to my Mom I can only thank God and praise him for giving us memory.

To prepare for this post I read the anniversary posts from the past few years. I can't believe the things I wrote, and honestly found myself wondering if I knew what I was saying. By God's mercy, I have walked the lonely road of grief with a friend who knows my pain even more than I do. The truth that we're all truly alone in this world doesn't sit right with me - I am very people oriented, you know. Still I believe that so much of our lives happens internally between us and God, and when you're battling him you can feel devastatingly lonely for he is the only one who has complete and full access to every thought and corner of my heart. That frightens me, but at the very same time is a great relief because while I can't explain to you all how it feels to receive February 23rd as it speeds toward me I know that my Heavenly Father knows and came to earth so that he would know all the more perfectly what my pain feels like and how it impacts my life. That just blows my mind, really.

My sorrow remains, and my heart will continue to ache where the Mom-shaped hole is, but it will not ache forever. The beacon light - the hope in the end of this sometimes treacherous, often overwhelmingly better than expected life is that all things will be redeemed and made right. We will no longer be torn apart from one another. Death does not get the final word. I can sit in my sorrow with the hope of eternity giving me rest and relief from pain. Oh how I long for Heaven... to be in the presence of God and free from all the confusion, pain and suffering of this broken world... it will be so glorious! All things made right. All things redeemed. I can't even fathom what that means.

I miss my Mom, as always. I wish I could call her and tell her that I cooked Thanksgiving dinner this year... tell her that I love my job... tell her that I've been playing Scrabble in the past few weeks & then challenge her to a match or five... I wish I could tell her that I'm going to try to make zucchini bread for the first time & get her suggestions... tell her that I met a boy who is incredibly kind and patient with me... I wish I could tell her that I love her and that she's the most important person I'll ever know. Someday I'll tell her all these things, and she'll probably laugh with pleasure and then tell me all about her sweet reunion with God, her baby Daniel, and her Dad... and we'll laugh and rejoice together forever.