Stepping Backwards.
I wrote this on Thursday the 12th...
Okay, so it's not three steps back. But maybe two. Today. Hm. It was a good day. It really was. I got treated by a friend to some shopping and to get a few needed items. I had lunch with that friend at Chick-fil-A... another huge plus.
It was when I picked up Alexis and went to Target that things got funny. We arrived at Target and I had separated my gift cards for Target and Starbucks and brought them by hand into the store. I put them into a hand-held shopping basket along with my car keys. I went to the Pharmacy and put in my refill request and did some grocery shopping for dinner tonight. We purchased the groceries and then proceeded to Starbucks all excited about using my gift card... and that's when I realized... my cards were missing. I had Alexis check the car to make sure I didn't leave them on the dashboard. No luck. I kept thinking and thinking. I used another card to pay for my purchases and had the card in hand when I asked the cashier where my card was. I didn't even realizing I was holding it!
I couldn't think of where my cards had went to. It took me a while to realize that I left them in my basket. I went quickly back to the register... the basket had already been returned. Then went back to the baskets.... no cards. So they were probably taken. I was so angry with myself. I just threw away money... money to Starbucks and Target. I had 3 starbucks cards... and my one registered card was the one with a $0 balance... the others had money on them that I had planned on loading to my registered card. Serious bummer. I went to Customer Service. Checked the Pharmacy. All with no success. This was a very time consuming process and I ended up coming back VERY late... so Mike wasn't able to do work today. Another frustration.
I've been so low... feeling condemnation everywhere I turn. Frustrated when I see a pile of books that I'm halfway through and haven't finished reading. Frustrated at my lack of ability to remember things... forgetting the therapist was coming at 8:30 a.m. today. Forgetting to call friends back. Failure to communicate. And I'm frustrated because I feel I'm impossible to understand. And when I look for understanding outside of God... well, it just doesn't work.
I can be doing so fine and then something happens and I feel like I've been swallowed by the enormity of life. Enormity of all I'm unable to do and all that must be done. The enormity of the stresses and concerns of the day to day and the future. Michaels' surgery is coming up. Ian needs to get his blood work done again to see if his iron levels have improved. I need to pack up the whole house and right now I feel like I can't even put my own laundry away. I need to check the neurologist to see which appt. is valid.... 2 were scheduled... I scheduled one and the doctor's office scheduled another. i need to get a hold of WIC again! Blah. Blah. Blah.
It was when I lost those gift cards that it hit me like a ton of bricks. I've lost something valuable and I can't get it back. And no I'm not referring to the cards. I'm referring to my sister. I can never be an aunt to her children... and she won't be an aunt to mine. I will never get to hold my nephew. I will never get to vacation, shop, call, talk, drink coffee, go exercising or swimming, or singing, or bowling, or laughing, or any thing with her again. And I miss her. I miss so many things about her. The way she would toss her hair, or snort, or brush her teeth before she could talk to anyone in the morning, the way she'd pull on her eyes when it was allergy season... and when it wasn't allergy season. The way she'd talk me into doing whatever she wanted. And I was the BIG sister!
I feel raw and sick to my stomach and I want to scream. I just want to yell and yell and yell. Not anything in particular, just a loud grief cry. I'm always struck by certain movies when I hear a "grief cry"... there are some where I know that kind of cry intimately... that soul-wrenching plea that escapes your lips and you can hardly believe the noise is coming from you...
5 years ago I buried my sister and nephew. 5 years ago I wept and wept. I laid pennies around the edge of her coffin and I fought back the urge to fling it open and stare at her one last time. I never saw her dead. We were just told. We never saw. The accident was so bad we were told not to look... that it wasn't my sister.... not the way I'd want to remember her. I had dreams for the first week after burying her that I went back to the cemetery and I dug her up. I just wanted to see her again. I used to think that maybe she was a witness to something and so was in the witness protection plan and that they had to fake her death. I know it's not true... I guess it was the wishful thinking of someone who wanted to escape the pain.
The sky has darkened and is dreary. The chill has soaked through my skin and has sunk deep in my heart. The branches are dark against the bleak sky. All seems lost. But it's not. I know that past all this dreariness that the sun is still shining... just because I can't see it doesn't mean it's not there. And just because I can't see my sister doesn't mean she doesn't exist... it just means I have to wait...
The picture up top is a picture of a mourning dove. I used to think they were called "morning" doves. But they're not. I realized after my sister passed that they are mourning doves... they are called that because of the sad cry they make... they sound as though they're mourning. I love these birds.
And right now I hear the sad cries of a bird in the distance... it sounds as if it has lost its mate... or may be a close friend... or maybe a sister.
and so I weep. I weep knowing that joy comes in the morning. I weep knowing that this too will pass. And I weep knowing that it's okay.... Jesus wept too. And He was bringing Lazarus back from the dead. (John 11:1-44) He's not afraid of the tears. He stores them in bottles. (Psalm 56:8- "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? ")
I could fill up pages with all the things that need to be done... all the problems, stresses, and difficulties... the truth is though that you wouldn't understand... not that you wouldn't sympathize... but only God understands. He is the only one to understand each of our needs, our cares, our concerns, our struggles, our hurts. And right now, even in what feels like the depths I know He is there. He is there. He is there.
I can just look to the Psalms and see the valleys of hope and the depths of despair... sometimes from chapter to chapter othertimes from verse to verse. God isn't afraid of my highs or lows... or even the middle... He knows the pain. He knows the joys. He knows the temptations and struggles and grief. So yes, I might seem bi-polar... the highs and lows but I'm thankful to see that the Bible is right there with me... the highs and lows... the joys and griefs. And God is who He is. He hasn't changed from one day to the next. My feelings have but He is the same yesterday, today, forever and always.
Okay, so it's not three steps back. But maybe two. Today. Hm. It was a good day. It really was. I got treated by a friend to some shopping and to get a few needed items. I had lunch with that friend at Chick-fil-A... another huge plus.
It was when I picked up Alexis and went to Target that things got funny. We arrived at Target and I had separated my gift cards for Target and Starbucks and brought them by hand into the store. I put them into a hand-held shopping basket along with my car keys. I went to the Pharmacy and put in my refill request and did some grocery shopping for dinner tonight. We purchased the groceries and then proceeded to Starbucks all excited about using my gift card... and that's when I realized... my cards were missing. I had Alexis check the car to make sure I didn't leave them on the dashboard. No luck. I kept thinking and thinking. I used another card to pay for my purchases and had the card in hand when I asked the cashier where my card was. I didn't even realizing I was holding it!
I couldn't think of where my cards had went to. It took me a while to realize that I left them in my basket. I went quickly back to the register... the basket had already been returned. Then went back to the baskets.... no cards. So they were probably taken. I was so angry with myself. I just threw away money... money to Starbucks and Target. I had 3 starbucks cards... and my one registered card was the one with a $0 balance... the others had money on them that I had planned on loading to my registered card. Serious bummer. I went to Customer Service. Checked the Pharmacy. All with no success. This was a very time consuming process and I ended up coming back VERY late... so Mike wasn't able to do work today. Another frustration.
I've been so low... feeling condemnation everywhere I turn. Frustrated when I see a pile of books that I'm halfway through and haven't finished reading. Frustrated at my lack of ability to remember things... forgetting the therapist was coming at 8:30 a.m. today. Forgetting to call friends back. Failure to communicate. And I'm frustrated because I feel I'm impossible to understand. And when I look for understanding outside of God... well, it just doesn't work.
I can be doing so fine and then something happens and I feel like I've been swallowed by the enormity of life. Enormity of all I'm unable to do and all that must be done. The enormity of the stresses and concerns of the day to day and the future. Michaels' surgery is coming up. Ian needs to get his blood work done again to see if his iron levels have improved. I need to pack up the whole house and right now I feel like I can't even put my own laundry away. I need to check the neurologist to see which appt. is valid.... 2 were scheduled... I scheduled one and the doctor's office scheduled another. i need to get a hold of WIC again! Blah. Blah. Blah.
It was when I lost those gift cards that it hit me like a ton of bricks. I've lost something valuable and I can't get it back. And no I'm not referring to the cards. I'm referring to my sister. I can never be an aunt to her children... and she won't be an aunt to mine. I will never get to hold my nephew. I will never get to vacation, shop, call, talk, drink coffee, go exercising or swimming, or singing, or bowling, or laughing, or any thing with her again. And I miss her. I miss so many things about her. The way she would toss her hair, or snort, or brush her teeth before she could talk to anyone in the morning, the way she'd pull on her eyes when it was allergy season... and when it wasn't allergy season. The way she'd talk me into doing whatever she wanted. And I was the BIG sister!
I feel raw and sick to my stomach and I want to scream. I just want to yell and yell and yell. Not anything in particular, just a loud grief cry. I'm always struck by certain movies when I hear a "grief cry"... there are some where I know that kind of cry intimately... that soul-wrenching plea that escapes your lips and you can hardly believe the noise is coming from you...
5 years ago I buried my sister and nephew. 5 years ago I wept and wept. I laid pennies around the edge of her coffin and I fought back the urge to fling it open and stare at her one last time. I never saw her dead. We were just told. We never saw. The accident was so bad we were told not to look... that it wasn't my sister.... not the way I'd want to remember her. I had dreams for the first week after burying her that I went back to the cemetery and I dug her up. I just wanted to see her again. I used to think that maybe she was a witness to something and so was in the witness protection plan and that they had to fake her death. I know it's not true... I guess it was the wishful thinking of someone who wanted to escape the pain.
The sky has darkened and is dreary. The chill has soaked through my skin and has sunk deep in my heart. The branches are dark against the bleak sky. All seems lost. But it's not. I know that past all this dreariness that the sun is still shining... just because I can't see it doesn't mean it's not there. And just because I can't see my sister doesn't mean she doesn't exist... it just means I have to wait...
The picture up top is a picture of a mourning dove. I used to think they were called "morning" doves. But they're not. I realized after my sister passed that they are mourning doves... they are called that because of the sad cry they make... they sound as though they're mourning. I love these birds.
And right now I hear the sad cries of a bird in the distance... it sounds as if it has lost its mate... or may be a close friend... or maybe a sister.
and so I weep. I weep knowing that joy comes in the morning. I weep knowing that this too will pass. And I weep knowing that it's okay.... Jesus wept too. And He was bringing Lazarus back from the dead. (John 11:1-44) He's not afraid of the tears. He stores them in bottles. (Psalm 56:8- "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? ")
I could fill up pages with all the things that need to be done... all the problems, stresses, and difficulties... the truth is though that you wouldn't understand... not that you wouldn't sympathize... but only God understands. He is the only one to understand each of our needs, our cares, our concerns, our struggles, our hurts. And right now, even in what feels like the depths I know He is there. He is there. He is there.
I can just look to the Psalms and see the valleys of hope and the depths of despair... sometimes from chapter to chapter othertimes from verse to verse. God isn't afraid of my highs or lows... or even the middle... He knows the pain. He knows the joys. He knows the temptations and struggles and grief. So yes, I might seem bi-polar... the highs and lows but I'm thankful to see that the Bible is right there with me... the highs and lows... the joys and griefs. And God is who He is. He hasn't changed from one day to the next. My feelings have but He is the same yesterday, today, forever and always.
Comments
I would suggest that sometime... while there is still time, that you might talk to MaMaK about it. She's lost 4 of her sisters, two to unexpected illness or accidents, one to cancer, one to age. Aunt Rene, who was truly a 'second Mom' to me--as Mom was a single Mom--, died very unexpectedly, and it nearly 'killed' my Mom. I'll never forget her grief and how long it lasted...still lasts, I think.
In spite of the intimacy of your heartache, you know that others, too, have experienced severe, heart breaking grief, as well...and not just survived, but...lived.
We love you, sweet Jen...
Dad