This is a post that I have revisited a number of times and debated whether or not to post. Here it is:
I try to keep these blog posts as light-hearted as I can. In general, I choose to count my blessings and I choose to focus on the positive. When I count my blessings, they are too numerous to count. I have an amazing husband, I get to spend tons of time with my kids, I love my job, we have a great RV and the opportunity to travel… I genuinely pinch myself sometimes to remember that this is actually my life and I am not dreaming.
However, life is not always sunshine and roses. I never want anyone to think that I am faking it or that we don’t have struggles. Recently our pastor has been talking about not being able to stand with God on the mountain top if you haven’t walked with Him in the valley. If ever there was a long, deep, dark, valley, we have been in it. I never know how much or how little to talk about my grief or the messier parts of life. I don’t want to be the downer on the facebook feed, I don’t want to burden anyone with sadness or make things uncomfortable, but for every time it comes up and gets awkward, please remember that this is my life 100% of the time. I am SO much more aware of those that are grieving around me and it saddens me greatly that grieving people feel they must minimize their grief when (or if) it comes up.
The truth right now is that we lost our daughter, then our kids lost their school (closed for Covid), we experienced job loss, insurance loss and all of the same general uncertainty about what is happening in the world today that others are facing. While we are enjoying what might be the catalyst for a new direction in life or maybe just an epic summer, we are still living with a lot of uncertainty and even though we are people of faith and we are confident that God is with us and will meet our needs, it is impossible to completely overcome our human nature and not have some fear or trepidation about what lies ahead.
Specific to grief, grief comes up in the funniest of places. This is not so convenient for me because I hate surprises. I am a planner. I like to plan, but grief refuses to be scheduled. There are times that I know things are going to be hard. But there are tons of other times when grief shows up unannounced and I have to scramble to figure out how to respond. When we were driving to Dubois, I was SO happy to be driving John’s car with Sirius radio through the entire radio wasteland that is Wyoming! I was able to rely on a steady stream of tunes to keep me company. I found a throw-back country countdown and I was totally into it. Then, an Alan Jackson song came on that I had not heard in years and I remembered by the tune that I liked it, but if I had remembered the specifics of the lyrics I would have changed the station immediately…
Why did she have to go
So young I just don’t know why
Things happen half the time
Without reason without rhyme
Lovely, sweet young woman
Daughter, wife and mother
Makes no sense to me
I just have to believe
CHORUS: She flew up to Heaven on the wings of angels
By the clouds and stars and passed where no one sees
And she walks with Jesus and her loved ones waiting
And I know she’s smiling saying
Don’t worry ’bout me
Loved ones she left behind
Just trying to survive
And understand the why
Feeling so lost inside
Anger shot straight at God
Then asking for His love
Empty with disbelief
Just hoping that maybe… (Chorus)
And suddenly, my face is WET! Tears are pouring down my cheeks with a mixture of sadness and gladness at the beautiful imagery from this song.
A few days later, on our park tour, which might be one of the most fun evenings I have had in a long time and grief snuck into the park with a young girl, probably a few months, but not too much, older than Cheyenne would have been. Her dad was a police officer and had had some friendly interaction with Trista and John, but I couldn’t even look at them. Here I am, that weird lady trying so hard not to cry in the park, but the tears slipped out anyway. In this climate, I am wondering if they are thinking that I am unable to look at a police officer or if they even notice, is it awkward? Is it not?
At the Medora Musical, a young couple had to get up repeatedly with their child, who was about the age Cheyenne would have been and I watched their exasperated faces each time they had to climb the stairs, and I know if she were here I likely would have had those same feelings…
July 21, we had a lovely day that ended with a fun and funny dinner and a show, when we got back to the RV to get ready for bed and the tears came as I washed dishes. John asked what was wrong and I said, “It was a great day, but it is still the 21st.” The 21st of every month hits almost like a physical ailment and the tears come and I can not stop them. I wonder how long this will be. I hear that most people struggle around the anniversary dates of lost loved ones and right now mine come around monthly, but I hope someday I will be able to measure them in years.
At cowboy church, when we were singing praise music, songs that most folks who have been around church for a while know, but many that I have not heard or sung in quite some time. I’ll Fly Away has always been a favorite, until we started singing and imagery was just too much.
When we were driving back to Colorado, eastbound on I-80 the mileage signs for a good stretch have the distances to Cheyenne and Sidney (NE), quite a few of them, actually, and a couple of years ago, we lost our dear friend Sydney. Sydney LOVED babies and was so excited when each of mine were born and we have lots of hand-knitted things that she made for them. In fact, she was the very first person (aside from family) that we left Trista alone with. I was disappointed that Cheyenne wouldn’t get the same Sydney treatment. Again, aside from family, it has been a source of comfort to think that Cheyenne and Sydney are together in heaven. I saw these signs and even though the spelling was not the same, it was another reminder of what has been lost from this world and what I can look forward to when my time on Earth is through.
And on and on it goes…
All I know right now is that grief sucks. It is the suckiest kind of suck that ever was! Every one of us will experience loss at some point in our lives and I hope that no one ever feels awkward to share their loss with me. I have noticed recently that I am encountering more and more people who have experienced loss, I suspect that they have always been there, but that I am more open to noticing them. I have an understanding that I didn’t ask to have, but I pray that I can use this horrible experience to help others, to walk beside them in their pain, and not just be the weird lady crying in the park!
r2tkhl