Monday, February 23, 2015

The Day My Life Stopped-and Restarted





One of my favorite pictures of my mom and I 

Sweet child

I miss you Mom. There are so many things you have missed. Last night, when Jonah tried sweet potatoes for the first time, I wanted to call you. Last Monday, when, I was struggling (horribly) with the whole working mom thing…and I needed advice, your advice, … I needed  you. Tomorrow marks twelve years. Twelve long years, without you. Within those years, there has been much celebration, joy, blessings, abundance, but then its coupled with loss. I've tried to fill that void with so many things. It doesn't get easier, you don't get over it, you don't move on, you just learn how to live without that person. 

So as I sit here dreading every February, every February 24th, I think about how many other people- working, living, existing, near me, have their own day. (I always hope that on February 23rd, a camera crew, my mom, and all kinds of other people will come to me like a Truman Show moment, telling me how I've basically been taped all this time; that it hasn't been real).  A haunting, troubling, sad, life-changing day. I think about this as I see people lose patience in the store with a cashier, people who are so angry, you can practically see it pouring out of them. I have wanted to take their hand, pray, and say, "You will be okay. I'm sad too. I'm angry, hurt, discouraged, but despite the loss, and all those feelings, I'm okay. My life stopped, but it's started again."

At times I feel like everyone forgets about this day and what significance it has… How can people keep living the day my life stopped? This question affected me and really bothered me for awhile. 

But guess what? Everyone has their own stuff. Some people can lug their baggage around in a carry on, and others could have an entourage of people behind them pulling their suitcases. That's life. People I know have lost parents at a younger age than me. Friends have miscarried and haven't experienced that sweet baby. Close family and friends have divorced. Life happens. 

Somehow, on February 25th, 2003, I managed to get out of bed. The day after my world came crashing down, God gave me strength to keep living.  Every February since that horrible day, God has helped me find strength (sometimes in the depth of my soul) to keep going. My life stopped, but then it restarted. 

I really want to think that at least 350-ish days, I handle this loss well. I don't want people to look at me and know what I've gone through based on me seeming depressed or sad. That doesn't mean I won't share how I'm feeling, and how heart broken I still feel at times, BUT I don't want this to define me. 

I want Samuel and Jonah and hopefully many more babies to be happy and filled up, instead of around a depressed, moping mom…how fun and fair would that be for them?

So tomorrow I will do what I know to cope-pray,exercise, talk to my dad, hug my babies and Josh extra tight. I will let myself be sad, mad, angry, grateful, nostalgic, and teary. I remember my mom and all that she was, all the memories I still treasure, and always will. 








 

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