In a week or less you can learn to knit or crochet or use a sewing machine.
You can learn to throw a baseball, catch a fish, paddle a kayak, pitch a tent.
There are many things that don’t take long to learn at all.
This week, I learned that you will never get tired of eating those hot dogs you can only get in Erie, PA. I learned that just because it costs more, does not mean you’ll get a better mani-pedi than the last place you went. I learned that it’s easy to assume you know about people by their emails, their Facebook pages — but that most people have hidden stories that are begging to be uncovered.
I learned that the pursuit of happiness can wear you out. And that happiness can slip away in a week. Although, let’s be honest, I learned 6.5 months ago that happiness can slip away in the blink of an eye, the last beat of a heart.
Last night was one of the worst in a while. I was laying in bed crying “over nothing” which is what I say when I don’t know exactly what has made me break down. Every time I thought I was reigning it in, the floodgates would open right back up. I made Bill late for work because, bless his heart, he hates to leave me alone, especially when he knows I’m so upset. If I were to try to put my finger on it, I might say it’s our upcoming trip to Pennsylvania that has put a damper on my happiness. Perhaps, I am scared about being with all the people who haven’t seen us since we lost J. Will they ask questions (I would prefer this), or will they just look at us with sad, pitiful eyes (to this). Or were the tears shed for that which is missing, seeing my nephew and knowing that he and Joanna would have had so much fun together…or seeing how happy he makes my parents and not getting to see that joy in their eyes holding J.
If you think about that for a second, it would probably make your heart break too.
But I’m also (re)learning that even in my weakest moments, my saddest moments, I’m not alone.
This is my comfort in my affliction,
that Your promise gives me life.
Psalm 119:50
Like this:
Like Loading...
[Still] Gracious 
Honey, Joanna does bring me joy, even with her in heaven the thought of her brings joy to my heart, sadness to, but joy. Joy on having you share her with us those few months, joy in knowing that she was loved so much and wanted so much by all of us, joy in knowing that she was a life created by you Bill. Don’t ever think that she does not bring us joy. Love you and praying for you and Bill daily. XO
Hey sweet Mama. I understand your grief. While Sam has only been gone 7 weeks, I see it, too. It’s not that we love our nieces or nehews any less; if anything we understand love even more. It’s just a sadness that our sweet babies don’t get to experience the love of our parents here on earth. Hugs to you. I hope you find peace for your upcoming trip. Xo
Dear One, I remember a ski week in Austria with work friends a few months after our loss, with many who I hadn’t seen since I was pregnant. No one said a word to me about it and it was the most painful week I can remember. But in looking back, I wish I had been able to say something. I’m sure they didn’t know what to say. My tears were just behind my eyes and I felt mute, but if only I had just said “I’m really struggling with missing our daughter” after the “How are you?” I may have opened the door to conversation and comfort. It seems unfair to be the one who is grieving and to have to help others to help you, but I know they love you, and would only want that too. Praying and sending angels and hugs. ❤