I blog-jumped for the first time in a long while the other night. I found myself walking into a family's fresh grief; three weeks out. Just barely home from the funeral, the flowers, the cards and condolences. I felt a familiar pang of sadness and pain, and tears formed in my eyes. I remember...
I remember sitting on the couch with my family after we came home from the hospital without Owen. Before the funeral, after the devastation of his birth. Chris made the funeral plans and I cried. I made my way from the couch to the shower to our bed. Crying everywhere I went.
I remember when my milk came in. It was a day after I was discharged from the hospital. The nurses told me it would, but I had no idea. I was lying on the couch, Chris was arranging the funeral, my mom in the kitchen, my dad pacing, my brother and his girlfriend (now wife) sitting at the table working on their graduate studies, and I was lying like a dead woman when I felt the shock and horror of a pain I can't describe now without feeling nauseous. I sobbed and held my chest with my arms, hunched over in pain and humiliation. I kept my head down as I walked past my family to the bathroom. I cried in the shower for a long time. The south was still in a drought, I remember it so clearly, but I didn't care. I let the water pound on my back and I stood there wishing the ground could shallow me whole.
I remember not caring about anyone or anything in those long days before the funeral. I couldn't feel thankful for the meals or the visits or well meaning words of sympathy. I couldn't feel anything but the pain of his absence.
I remember when the shock wore off. And I remember the nights I thought I would die of a broken heart.
But unbelievably, I didn't. I don't know why.
My mind turns back to the words of a family hurting and grieving with all the raw emotion of the beginning. It hurts like hell, I whisper to my computer screen, but unbelievably, your heart will still keep beating. I don't know why.
But I know how- God's grace. He will hold you in the darkest of dark nights. He will comfort your broken heart, though it can't be fixed. Not yet anyways.
He will keep your broken heart beating and he will keep all his promises. I remember. And I'm thankful I do.