Passages

Today is the 9th anniversary of my dad’s entrance into heaven.

I can’t believe it has been nine years. Where in the world has all the time gone?

Even though it has been nine years, I remember it vividly…like it had happened yesterday. The smell of the hospital room, the noise coming in from the hall, the sound of my dad struggling to breath,the feel of his hands clutching my arms as he tried to hold on to what little life he had, the sound of my voice gently assuring him that he would feel better soon and everything would be ok, the utter numbness combined with heartache when his heart finally stopped beating…

It is all encompassing, the emotions that grip you when you lose someone you love. The rest of the world vanishes and all you can see, hear and feel is grief and sorrow and silence. This big gaping hole has been ripped out of Life and the numbing vacuum that is created overwhelms everything else.

I just found out this past weekend that a friend lost her son on this very date as well. Not the same year but on February 7th. It is such a strange feeling to share an anniversary such as this.

I have been trying to figure out why this year is so vivid for me on this anniversary. I thought it was because of finding out the commonality of this share date with my friend. But I don’t think it is that.

One of my very best friends is in the process of losing her younger brother to cancer. It is inevitable. He has stopped treatment, hospice has been called in and they know that it is just a matter of time.

Having gone through this, I know there aren’t any words to say that will make this better for her. There isn’t any magic saying that will make her feel better or ease her pain. Everyone feels things differently and everyone grieves in their own way. What works for one person will, more than likely, not work for the next. As frustrating as it is, the only thing to do is to be there for the person – to listen, to give a shoulder to cry on, to be available for anything they may need to help them get through this.

My heart bleeds for her, her brother and the rest of her family. This has happened quickly and he was in the prime of his life before the cancer hit. It SUCKS and I feel so sad that they have to go though this.

I know saying this won’t help and, if she or anyone else who is grieving the loss of a loved one don’t want to read what I want to say next, I totally understand. But I do want to say it.

It gets better. The big gaping vacuum of a whole in your heart will be eased over time. It will always be there but the pain gets less. Someday your life will go on. Maybe sooner. Maybe later. But time goes forward and the grief will ease.

One thing that comforts me (may not comfort others – back to everyone grieves differently) is the knowledge that someday I will see my dad (and my mom) again. In heaven. With Jesus.

Granted I still have moments when I want to scream at God for taking my parents away too soon, but I know he has a better plan and I need to trust him. Besides, at least I don’t have to worry about my parents anymore. Don’t have to worry about something bad happening to them because they are safe and sound and happy.

To anyone in my life who is experiencing grief and pain, I am here. I will listen, comfort, console and, most of all, be there when you need me. In the mean time, I will simply pray. As always.