Friday, September 12, 2014

It's Still There

“I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process.” 
― C.S. LewisA Grief Observed

I often wonder when the pain is going to let up. When I won't find myself tearing up when I think about my boy. When the nights won't feel so dark. When the waves won't crash so hard.

The thing is, grief is bittersweet in a way that every time I hear of another loss, I feel that family's pain. I know the ache that mother's arms are feeling to hold her child just one more time. I know the feeling of walking around in a daze, trying to wake up from the nightmare. The feelings of sadness and jealousy when you see another family with kids the same age as yours should have been. I go back to the day we buried Carter. How I told Danny I wasn't getting out of the car. That I couldn't, this couldn't be happening. I hurt for the things the family is going through and will go through. And it brings back my own hurt.

I don't talk about it as much because in theory, I should be "over it" by now. (I'm not). I'm slowly starting to learn, that as much as I would like for it to not hurt still, it does, and it's going to keep hurting. Trust me, I would love to not feel this ache so deeply. I even get frustrated that I can't not hurt. That I can't not think about it for even one day. I want my heart to be whole again. The hurt is still there and I don't think it's going anywhere.


  1. I'm a reader from Vancouver, Canada and just want you to know that I pray for God's grace and love on you and your family. I don't doubt the pain & grief is still so deep. It will shift but a mama's deep yearning is probably present forever.

  2. I stumbled across your blog today. I, too, lost one of my identical twin boys in the NICU. My sweet Lucas lived 76 days. His body just couldn't match his fighting spirit. It's so painful watching my surviving twin grow up without his little brother here. My prayers are with you and your family.