I visit Mom’s facebook page late at night, when I really miss her. Sometimes I half expect there to be new pictures, and then quickly realize that there won’t be. There aren’t new memories to make and new pictures to post. She has no more life left to live. Pulmonary Fibrosis took that from our family.
So there I am in bed, scrolling through the same pictures I’ve scrolled through countless nights before, hoping to see something I haven’t yet. And I always find myself disappointed.
I’ve had conversations with God that go something like “I miss her so much. I just want you to give her back to me.” I said those words last night, actually. But I also realized last night – how cruel would that be? And not because Mom was sick, but because I realized how heartbreaking it would be to reach heaven, to be in the sweet presence of our Savior, only to be sent back here.
I picked up a new book at Barnes & Noble the other day called The Dead Moms Club. It recounts the author’s experience of losing her mom to pancreatic cancer. What I’ve really appreciated about this book is that the author, Kate Spencer, lays it all out on the table. The real, raw emotions that losing your mother to a horrible disease brings out. It’s made me feel like a human being actually understands my story. And it’s made me feel less lonely.
And maybe that’s why I’m writing this rambly, gloomy post – so that maybe someone else could feel just a little less lonely, too. Grief is isolating. But friend, you are not alone. You are not alone in your sorrow. You are not alone in what feels like irrational/crazy/dumb/whatever-you-call-them thoughts.
You are not alone. Because I am here, ready to listen to you gush about how amazing your mom/dad/brother/sister/child/best friend ever was, your favorite memories with them, the words you wish you would’ve said, how much you wish God could just give them back. But more importantly, you are not alone because God is with you. In the middle of your grief. Ready to listen to your questions, your angry words, your deep sorrow. He is near to the brokenhearted, and he saves the crushed in spirit.