The morning began like any other. A shower, a bagel, a cup of tea. Death was near. I just didn’t know it. . .yet.
“Time to get up, Sweetie,” I told Laura. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Do you want to wear your purple sweater to preschool? It’s very cold outside.”
“OK, Mommy. Could I have toast for breakfast?”
“Sure.” I padded to the kitchen and grabbed the Butternut.
Steve called from the bathroom. “We need more shaving cream.”
Then the phone rang. A phone call now? Strange. No one calls this early.
I answered and heard a woman’s voice, all business. Her words made no sense. My mom? Dead? Looks like a heart attack? “Is this some kind of sick joke?” I blurted.
The woman repeated the horrible words I didn’t want to believe. I dropped the phone and fell to my knees. Tears rushed like a stream.
Life seemed normal again after the funeral. I was back at work. Steve too. Laura asked fewer questions about Grandma Carol. But life was crazy on the inside. Crazy-bad. I knew I was grieving. I just never knew it could be this bad. I sped from denial to anger and flat-out asked God, “Why did you kill my best friend? Didn’t you know I needed her?”
You may think my questions were irreverent. Maybe they were. I don’t know. I only knew that I hurt deeply and that my God is sovereign. He picked the hour of her death. He was responsible. I didn’t like him very much right then.
Fast forward a few months.
It was Mother’s Day and tough to be in church. The ushers handed out roses. I gave mine to Laura. Sadness covered me like a wet, wool coat. Beyond uncomfortable. I wanted out. My days were dark. My nights darker.
Fast forward a few more months.
I visited my mom’s gravesite and traced the words on the polished stoned with my finger, slowly: Carol Gale Kuper ~ November 7, 1931 – January 10, 1994 ~ Through Death Into Life. And I cried. Again. Yet something was different. I was different.
You see, on this day, as I touched the stone, I made the decision to hope, to live again. I no longer allowed sadness and anger to rule my thoughts and feelings. I put them in the safe hands of God, the same God whom I accused of killing my mom, my best friend. He didn’t kill her, he called her home to heaven. He’s not always likeable.
But he loves. . .
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)
Death is a terrible thing. It hurts.
Has death come near to you?
Whether you’ve lost a mom, a baby or someone dear to you, please, please be kind to yourself. It’s OK to grieve. Open up to a caring person when you feel the need to talk. Listen to music that soothes your soul.
Look at photos. Remember happy times. Remember sad times. Talk to God about deep things.
When meaningful dates approach — the loved one’s birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day or any day that has special significance to you — expect your emotions to fly any which way. You may be sad for no apparent reason, or you may be quick to yell. It’s a sign you’re grieving; don’t be too hard on yourself.
Reminders of death may mess with you too.
A friend told me a story that he had become very upset when his young son’s pet duck died. He couldn’t figure out why. He wasn’t attached to the duck. It was just a duck, he said. As we talked I learned that he and his wife had a baby who died in utero a few years before. His mind made a connection between the duck’s death and his baby. He still grieved.
And that’s okay.
Grieve well, my sister. God understands. He’s been there. He wants to comfort you.
You are loved, Lucy
A touching and thoughtful post, Lucy. I pray you will touch many hearts who are grieving. May they be blessed with comfort by your words.
Blessings to you, sweet friend…Lynn
Lucy, this is a very lovely piece of writing. You illustrations could be felt, and I particularly liked when you “please, please be kind to yourself”. I think we are often the hardest people on ourselves.
Is this a story or truly your story?
Death is always painful if you have loved the one who dies. But there is something wonderfully healing about knowing that a loved one is called home and not hurting.
Great post!
Lindy,
Thanks for asking. It’s my story. The first year was tough. The second even tougher. I allowed myself to feel more deeply the second year.
There is healing is knowing a loved one is with the Lord. But sometime’s we aren’t sure. We can only hope.
Lucy,
I lost my mom in November 2000 to cancer. A dear friend gave me the best piece of advice… actually two pieces. 1.) There is no right or wrong way to grieve, just go with the flow; 2.) Your world will stop for a time with the loss you are going through, but the rest of the world will soon go on.
She was right. A couple weeks after Mom joined Jesus, everyone else’s lives, those around me, were going on as normal, but my world was upside down. This might have derailed me, had my friend not shared her wisdom with me. And I allowed myself to grieve when grief was present; I didn’t try to make it happen when it seemed right, and I didn’t hold it back when it came at unexpected times.
Eventually, it gets better, as you know. But it can still come in like a flood at the most unexpected moments. I like what you said about grieving well.
Thank you for sharing your story!
Cheri