I
had not anticipated the approaching New Year as a time that would be difficult,
yet this past week I’ve been weary. New
Year's Eve I was a weepy mess and it seemed like I woke up feeling the heaviness
of missing Seth. I tried to shake it,
tried distracting myself, but there was no distracting the pain my heart was
feeling, the tears just continued. So we
canceled our plans for the evening, because I wasn’t emotionally up to a joyful
evening of playing games with friends. After
dinner I just collapsed on the couch and I couldn’t help remembering how last
year I was curled up in bed well before midnight exhausted from the work it
took my body to nourish and nurture Seth in my womb. To be honest it hurt that this year I was
curled up on the couch exhausted from grief, sad that I couldn’t spend this day
holding him.
After
some reflecting I think the reason why this day was so difficult was that time continues. The calendar page would soon be forced to turn
again, yet this time instead of turning a page, it was about to be replaced
with a new calendar, its crisp white pages are never to be filled with memories
of Seth. They won’t be filled with his first
steps, first teeth, first words….just more grieving.
It
felt like this New Year’s Eve I was forced to say goodbye to a year that
brought us the sweet joy of Seth. It
seemed almost cruel to have to leave the beauty of a year filled with him
behind. I wanted to cling to the year
where I got to stroke his hair, hold his hand, feel his silky skin, cradle him
in my arms, sing over him and kiss him.
So
when the fireworks exploded around us to celebrate a new year, grief wrapped its
strong grip on my heart and the reality emerged that the distance between the time Seth
was physically with us was growing.
Today
I was reminded of a song we sang at Seth’s funeral. It was good to remind myself of the last verse.
I’m
praying that the Lord would help me see these passing days as days that I’m not
separated from Seth, but just another day closer to enjoying eternity together
with my shelter in this storm. I’m thankful
for faithful hands that do not and cannot fail.
Thanks
friends for walking this road with me. You are dear to me.
1 comment:
Reading this well after you've written it, Erica, but wanted you to know that we are lifting you up tonight. Love you guys!
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