Without Beginning or End

These writings probably seem random and scattered to those inexperienced with grief, but to those who are, unfortunately, well-acquainted, the haphazard organization is a hallmark of our terrible dilemma. Try as I might, this lack of rhyme or reason also marks my daily activity and just life in general. I have taken the approach of jumping in with both feet before having a clear plan…after all, is this not how grief came upon me as well?

Since I believe that my spirit is as old as time, and also believing that it will continue on forever, I see no reason to have a marked beginning or end of these writings. They are, that is, and by and by, my story will unfold. It matters not to me who will even read it…. It is mine, and it is Josie’s—both worthy enough reasons to have been recorded in this compilation. And since it is also Josie’s, I seek her assistance in all of these meandering thoughts… 

I have endeavored to be hope-filled, and not drown in the waters of despair, through these past two arduous years. Indeed, there are moments I feel highly annoyed by others’ complaints and belly-aching. So much of humanity has based their life’s worth and meaning on things that will be of little relevance beyond the grave. The pettiness of many people’s perceived problems and the frivolity of their priorities is enough to cause me to avoid the masses as much as possible. Those that weep, that are struggling with getting through one more day, those are the people for whom my heart aches. These are my soul brothers and sisters.

I have suppressed much of my pain. With a broken-hearted husband, and four grieving children  (I believe Josie grieves for us as well), I must be strong. Even though my oldest son is a super-tough, badass Marine (who’s actually quite sensitive), I still feel the need to be strong and courageous for him. In reality, he has been the one to be strong and courageous for each of us!!!

All in all, I try very hard to not feel sorry for myself. My blessings have been enormous—littered with signs of my sweet, baby girl all along the way. I know that I am not the only person on this planet that carries this most bitter burden. Indeed, there are plenty of people that have been the recipients of far worse circumstances. 

It is times like these, when we have had the air completely knocked out of us, that the Lord somehow holds onto us the most tenderly. Many choose to become angry with God over their loss, but never once have I felt anger towards He who loves me the most. This was not His doing. And besides, of all those I know, who could understand a parent’s grieving heart better than He? With this in mind, and without hesitation, I continuously offer up my broken heart to Him in fervent prayers that, more often than not, come without words—On. Eagles. Wings…