One Day at a Time

It's been just over 5 weeks since Everly left this earth.

Oddly now is harder than the first few weeks.  There was a switch that occurred after her Celebration of Life on February 20th.  Not sure why or what even that it was, maybe it was the reality of Everly's absence, maybe it was seeing the urn and knowing, maybe it was just saying our final goodbyes, but whatever "it" was has made the time since hard.  Grueling.  Punishing. 



6  months

As we make feeble attempts to put one foot in front of the other, I recall reading recently that some say one experiences a numbness of sorts immediately following a loss.  However, others state that it is God who actually places a supernatural hedge of protection around in those early days.

I'm in that camp.

I am not convinced one can function, think, or possibly even breathe without that covering from our Father above.  When you lose a child, the world doesn't seem to make sense.   To know their life was cut short, the loss of experiences, memories and moments with them...it's nearly impossible to see past that.  It seems such a gift from Him to surround you with some numbness or covering to allow you to wake up each day and face the world. 

Now a few weeks out from the shock of it all, our emotions and thoughts are changing.  That hedge of protection?  It's there but now there's a few carved out walk-throughs meant to help us move forward.  Grief isn't stationary and so we must move in some direction. 

That move is hard.  Plain hard.

I am finding that simple tasks are no longer simple.  I have become well-skilled at paper shuffling...one side of my desk to the other, never really making it to the intended destination.  My beloved to do lists continue to get longer while the check marks seem to missing.  Deadlines, due dates seem unimportant and even when I force myself to pay attention to them, there seems to be some invisible barrier that prevents my focus and attention.   

Late in the evenings, I can sit down at the desk to attend to all the matters that need "attending" and after hours later I've made no more progress than when I first sat.  It's as if my mind checks out, is on vacation or just can't snap it together.  Not sure exactly what it is and pray that it won't last long.

The boys understand our tears, our quiet moments and are comfortable talking about how they miss Everly.  They respond well to seeing her pictures and videos and are happy to participate in talks about her.  They are responding well to their grief counseling for kids.  Their discussions are private from us so there's no fear of us "finding out" what they talked about.  It's been a good fit for them an for that we are glad. 

Jimmy shares my sadness and weeps when I weep and struggles with this grief as I do.  Both of us talk, along with the boys, talk about how much we miss her.  He also feels comfort from the caregiver group that meets while the boys are in their respective sessions.  My parents are also struggling with the intense sadness we feel by the huge hole Everly's absence has left.  Mom just went back to work and misses that routine she had of coming straight to our house from work to see Everly.  Dad is staying busy and is continuing to focus his time and energy on the boys and errands for us.  They both are experiencing the same bouts of sadness we are as well.

We are in just a state of being right now.

It isn't a place I believe we will stay.  But grieving a child is painful, messy, uncomfortable and out of line with what we "should" be doing.  But there is no avoiding it. 

6 months

Hearing Everly's name, sharing her pictures, planning for the future...those are all things that make our whole family happy.  We love to hear, say and read Everly's name...it reminds us that she did and does exist.  It validates her, our memories of her.  Please do not ever worry that you will make us sad by mentioning her.  We are already sad and there's nothing you can do to make that worse so don't worry.  Instead bring her up, let's talk about her...not mentioning her is what hurts.

Thankful, we are, to have the scriptures to rely on at times like these...when the pain seems to great, the wound too deep.  But in those moments, in that deep grief, God has a way for us to climb out of the pit. 

Jeremiah 29:13   You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

We have the promise of something MORE, something BETTER, something GREATER! 

Everly, our Everly, is already there, is already experiencing this.

John 16:33  I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world. 

Just as we chose to spend each of Everly's days on this earth focused on living in the moment, we are making a choice now to not let death rob us of our memories with our Sweet Pea.  We are pushing through the pain, the sadness, the loss the best we can so that we can have happiness and joy again. 

Romans 15:13  May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.