Do you remember the feeling when you receive some type of wound, whether it be a scraped knee or elbow to a gash on your forehead, and how much it hurts at first? Depending on how severe it is, you may feel the pain for a few hours to a few days. It all depends on how much time it takes said wound to scab over so it doesn't hurt so much and can start healing.
Right now that is exactly the way I feel. I did okay over the weekend, save for some pretty serious exhaustion, but after I got home last night I really started feeling the loss of our beautiful angel. I started thinking about everything that I loved about her, particularly the sparkle in her eyes and her happy smile (both of which were missing from the body we buried yesterday), and I began to really miss it. The thought that I won't ever see it again in this life makes me feel like all the air has been squeezed from my chest, and I can't breathe properly. Inevitably this is followed by a fresh bout of tears, no matter how recently it's been since I cried.
In many ways, I feel like my heart is broken and may never mend again. I KNOW this is not the case, that it's just grief for the loss that I feel, but it's hard, so much harder than I could have imagined it would be. And the hard part is that it doesn't stop. Throughout the day, little things will remind me of Ashley, and I find myself struggling not to cry. Today it was the origin of a company that just about set me off: it was founded the same year she was born, and that made me sad all over again. I know it's silly, but I can't help it.
I just had the opportunity to say good-bye to her this weekend and to attend a wonderful service in her honor, but in many ways I feel worse now than I did before. I don't know if it was because I had steeled myself for all of that or if I was given strength to make it through, but somehow I did. Now I'm left to struggle through the emotions left behind.
I know that my grief won't last forever, which is why I'm holding out hope for when things start to get a little easier, when I don't feel so sad all the time. I know the loss is fresh and vibrant right now, but it won't always be that way.
The kicker is that I have felt the Comforter so strongly in the last week, more so than I think I've ever felt it before. (Hmmm, I'm sure that has nothing to do with all the people who are praying for my family and me during this time.) I know that I am not alone and in many ways I am at peace. But even that warm feeling can't take away the sadness that I feel. I'm just trying to work through it so it won't overwhelm me. Eventually it will get easier. Eventually those memories that cause me sadness and tears right now will be something that will bring me comfort, just like the DVD my wonderful brother and sister-in-law made.
Until then I'll be waiting for the gaping wound I feel right now to scab over so it's less painful.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
My Heart is Touched
It never ceases to amaze me how people can really step up to the plate when it really matters. Not only can they do what needs to be done, but they can also offer compassion, service and love, which are all necessary and important.
This weekend was probably one of the toughest of my life, but it's also been miraculous in many ways. I was floored when I arrived at my parents' house on Friday night and saw an entire fridge full of food ward members and friends had brought over in support of my family. And it kept coming for the rest of the weekend. With each doorbell ring, I found myself touched more by the loving kindness that people show when it really matters.
My heart was filled with gratitude as I saw the number of people, including many extended family members, who came to support my sister and brother-in-law and our family. I was grateful too for my friends who drove a long distance to be there for me when I needed it. It's making me cry just thinking how touched I am by that. How can you thank someone for coming through for you when you needed it most, when you were truly at one of the lowest and hardest points in your life? I don't really know, but I'm trying to figure it out. I do know that if the situation were reversed, I would be there in a heartbeat, so I hope that, for now, that's a start.
I just want to say thanks to all the folks in the Paul 2nd and Nampa something wards (I can't remember which ward number Nampa is so sorry about that) who have helped and supported our family. I owe an even bigger thanks to my dear friend the Bibliophile who flew 2,000 miles to be there not only for me but for my entire family. She bravely oversaw details, purchased groceries, cared for children and offered support. I don't know how to adequately express my thanks for that either.
I just know that my heart is full and has truly been touched.
This weekend was probably one of the toughest of my life, but it's also been miraculous in many ways. I was floored when I arrived at my parents' house on Friday night and saw an entire fridge full of food ward members and friends had brought over in support of my family. And it kept coming for the rest of the weekend. With each doorbell ring, I found myself touched more by the loving kindness that people show when it really matters.
My heart was filled with gratitude as I saw the number of people, including many extended family members, who came to support my sister and brother-in-law and our family. I was grateful too for my friends who drove a long distance to be there for me when I needed it. It's making me cry just thinking how touched I am by that. How can you thank someone for coming through for you when you needed it most, when you were truly at one of the lowest and hardest points in your life? I don't really know, but I'm trying to figure it out. I do know that if the situation were reversed, I would be there in a heartbeat, so I hope that, for now, that's a start.
I just want to say thanks to all the folks in the Paul 2nd and Nampa something wards (I can't remember which ward number Nampa is so sorry about that) who have helped and supported our family. I owe an even bigger thanks to my dear friend the Bibliophile who flew 2,000 miles to be there not only for me but for my entire family. She bravely oversaw details, purchased groceries, cared for children and offered support. I don't know how to adequately express my thanks for that either.
I just know that my heart is full and has truly been touched.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Our beautiful angel
I am both sad and happy to report that after weeks and months, and sometimes even hours and days, of great suffering our beautiful angel returned to her Father in Heaven this morning. My sister told me her passing from this life into the next was peaceful--a wonderful blessing after the months of suffering she's endured
She has been so brave, enduring what would be difficult even for adults with grace and dignity. Her courageous battle, along with her that of her mom and dad, has touched so many lives. Perhaps we can't see it now, in light of the grief, but perhaps doing so has been part of her mission in this life. Perhaps it has encouraged people to re-examine their priorities to remember what is really important and to hold onto their families all the more. If so, it has truly been a life well lived. If not, it's still been a wonderful life.
My own heart feels broken right now, but I know that it's no worse than what my sister and her family are experiencing. I am eternally grateful that our merciful Father in Heaven has finally ended her suffering and called her home again. It gives me peace to know that. But my heart aches at the thought of never seeing her again, of never watching the expression come over her face when she said something sassy to me, of never meeting her at her favorite restaurant, Chuck-a-Rama, again when she came to Salt Lake for her doctor's appointment.
I'll miss all the little compliments that she would always send my way from telling me how beautiful I am to how much she loves me or that "my money doesn't work here" when we met for lunch. (I'm pretty sure that legacy comes from her wonderful father.) I'll miss the hugs she always gave and the fact that she loves everyone, even people who are difficult to love. I'll miss her cute little stories about silly things her brothers have done, told from the perspective of a benevolent older sister. I'll miss watching her crank up the music and jam with the best of them. I'll miss all the dramatic little things 12-year-olds do just because they're 12.
But most of all I'll miss the special connection that I've always felt with her. We are aunt and niece, but I loved her (as I do all my nieces and nephews) like she was my daughter. I was so very excited to be an aunt, and she was the first grandchild who came along. Her life has never been easy, but she endured it well. I haven't had the experience of being her mom of worrying and watching over her every day of her life, of caring for her as her body began to shut down. But I think for the 12 years she was on this earth that there was seldom, if ever, a day when she wasn't included in my prayers, when I didn't think about her or when I didn't feel such a strong love for her.
Farewell beautiful angel. Your family still here on earth loves you very much and can't wait to see you again someday. Please watch over us and know you'll never be far from our hearts.
She has been so brave, enduring what would be difficult even for adults with grace and dignity. Her courageous battle, along with her that of her mom and dad, has touched so many lives. Perhaps we can't see it now, in light of the grief, but perhaps doing so has been part of her mission in this life. Perhaps it has encouraged people to re-examine their priorities to remember what is really important and to hold onto their families all the more. If so, it has truly been a life well lived. If not, it's still been a wonderful life.
My own heart feels broken right now, but I know that it's no worse than what my sister and her family are experiencing. I am eternally grateful that our merciful Father in Heaven has finally ended her suffering and called her home again. It gives me peace to know that. But my heart aches at the thought of never seeing her again, of never watching the expression come over her face when she said something sassy to me, of never meeting her at her favorite restaurant, Chuck-a-Rama, again when she came to Salt Lake for her doctor's appointment.
I'll miss all the little compliments that she would always send my way from telling me how beautiful I am to how much she loves me or that "my money doesn't work here" when we met for lunch. (I'm pretty sure that legacy comes from her wonderful father.) I'll miss the hugs she always gave and the fact that she loves everyone, even people who are difficult to love. I'll miss her cute little stories about silly things her brothers have done, told from the perspective of a benevolent older sister. I'll miss watching her crank up the music and jam with the best of them. I'll miss all the dramatic little things 12-year-olds do just because they're 12.
But most of all I'll miss the special connection that I've always felt with her. We are aunt and niece, but I loved her (as I do all my nieces and nephews) like she was my daughter. I was so very excited to be an aunt, and she was the first grandchild who came along. Her life has never been easy, but she endured it well. I haven't had the experience of being her mom of worrying and watching over her every day of her life, of caring for her as her body began to shut down. But I think for the 12 years she was on this earth that there was seldom, if ever, a day when she wasn't included in my prayers, when I didn't think about her or when I didn't feel such a strong love for her.
Farewell beautiful angel. Your family still here on earth loves you very much and can't wait to see you again someday. Please watch over us and know you'll never be far from our hearts.
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