Free!!

Some of the best advice I ever got was from a woman who lost her son almost seventeen years ago.  She wrote me a very kind, thoughtful letter and she spoke of grief.  Her experience has taught her that everyone grieves differently.  People will expect you to act a certain way, but you won't be able to please everyone, you have to do what works for you...whatever helps you survive. 

Several people have suggested I speak with Michele, the mother of the two girls our community lost last week.  And I want to speak with her.  I want to hold her, cry with her, scream with her.  But I know that there is nothing I can say to take away her pain.  I can't say that it's going to get easier, because I don't know that it will.  I am only ten months into my grief journey, and in that ten months I have lost a second son.  I've heard it gets easier, but I don't feel that yet. 


Maryn and her dear friend Julie.

The only thing I know for sure, is her grief is her own.  She will grieve differently than I do.  Some cry, some laugh.  Some want to be alone, others want to be surrounded by people.  Some will quit their job while others will immerse themselves in work.  Some will run to their church and some will run away.  There is no wrong way to grieve the loss of a child. 

Most importantly, she will grieve differently than her husband does.  When we first lost Max, everyone felt inclined to tell Aaron and I about the divorce statistics associated with the loss of a child.  I imagine divorce rates go up even higher when you've lost two children.  And I can understand why people split up after tragedy.  You feel your own pain so intensely, and it hurts to look at your spouse and see their pain as well.  One spouse may blame the other, and forgiveness is hard to give when it comes to your children. 

The divorce stats don't mean a whole lot to me, but the best information I received was that Aaron and I would grieve differently.  He may not understand why I behave the way I do, and I may not understand him.  But we are both grieving and trying to cope.

Aaron would have people over here every night if he could.  He's social.  Me...not so much.  When he feels the need to be around people, I ask him to go to the neighbors, but sometimes he'll invite people over here.  And on more than one occassion, I have stayed in my room while he entertained company.  It's always family, so I don't feel like I am being too rude.  I expect them to understand. 


 

To tell you the truth, I'm at a point where I don't really care.  If you don't understand why I want to be alone,  oh well.  If your feelings get hurt because I won't look at your baby, I'm sorry.  I love you, I love your baby...but it hurts me, and I'm just trying to keep it together.  It actually feels good to be in this place.  I'm free.  I'm free to feel how I feel.  I don't care what people think.  I don't care what people say.  I no longer search for approval...I am free. 

Yesterday, at the end of the funeral mass, the priest prayed that we all have a desire to be with Jesus in heaven.  And I thought, "yes!".   That's what I have.  That's what Michelle and Ray will have.  We are free!  Free from fear of the devil.  Free from fear of death.  This is why Jesus came, to make us free. And I am FREE!!!  Are you?



"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free" -Luke 4:18

"Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape." -C.S. Lewis


Funeral Services in Hallettsville (Please continue to pray for this family)