Days turn into months

It's been a long 3 years and 8 months and 12 days since that fateful night when we got the knock on the door at 1 am to tell us our sweet girl had gone to Heaven.

Where am I now? Well, I'm a lot older than 3 years, 8 mon. and 12 days that have passed. I have lived an eternity. I drive down the road and the memories of Erin's childhood come flooding back--all the good times and some not so good, but mostly good. I remember riding down the same road with her so often. I remember taking her to church, all dressed up for Easter, or some other special occasion. The long talks we had as we were out and about, shopping, or eating at McDonald's or going to one of her friend's birthday parties. It all comes back as it washes over my mind.
Then the tears start as I am pulled back to the reality that she isn't here for me to share the joys of the future with--the grandchildren yet unborn--the big family Thanksgivings and Christmases that will hold an empty hole in our family and a big sadness that cannot be quenched in this life. I think of all the big events in David's life yet to come to pass and his big sister won't be here to share in the joys and happenings. The tears still roll unbridled so often as I read posts of my siblings children and the joys that their grandkids bring to them and know that I should be enjoying those things too at 62 but can't because my daughter has left this earth before bearing those grandchildren. One day I hope David will find a wife and give me grandchildren. I want it as much for him as for me. He said he'd name his daughter Erin if he has a daughter. He loved his sister so very much. They shared everything. He said he could talk to her as he couldn't to his dad and me. All three of us have changed so drastically. I spend a lot of time playing games on the computer just to fill time. David has put off beginning his college for a while but fills his days with gaming. Berry is in his own world which is more and more reclusive and doesn't include us. We all are lost in a way as we try to live but hurt so.

So, like I heard in a movie once, what do you do? You get out of bed each morning and breathe in and out. That's about it. You may smile occasionally. You may even laugh at times. Underneath it all, though, there is a deep wound that is dangerously close to breaking open at any time and then the true sorrow spills out all over again.

Do I believe that God has wounded us and won't bring healing? Absolutely not. He never gives us sorrow without giving a thread of hope for the future. He will help us to fulfill whatever destiny He has ahead for us. It may be giving to others who are hurting. It may be writing that others might read and know that they are not alone in what they feel after grief. It may be giving to the poor and needy as we wouldn't have done unless this had happened. I don't know what is ahead, but I do know that God holds the future. He is God and there is no other. I submit under His hand of grace and mercy.

So, days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years and grief work continues. It is never far from my mind, since my dear daughter is never far from my mind. It takes a lot of enery to mourn. It takes a lot of energy to laugh. I choose to live. I choose to find the good in those I meet. I choose to share hope with others. For hope is alive yet in my heart. It is found in the person of Jesus Christ.