Fifteen weeks.
It's still so hard to believe she's gone. My head just can't seem to "get it". I picked up the phone three times to call her this week. I almost asked to speak to her when I called one night to check on my dad. I just keep thinking it's has to be a nightmare.
But then I visit her grave. I see her name and just underneath her name is her date of birth followed by her date of death. The flowers I put in the vase have already started to fade. How can it already be time to replace them? It's just another reminder of how long it's been since I heard her say, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." Another reminder of how I didn't tell her I love her before she hung up the phone. I feel like I've been punched in the stomach and my heart has been cut with a razor every time I see her date of death.
The past two weeks have been hard. My heart feels like it did in those first few days following her death. It's raw and bleeding. I've spent a lot of energy trying to hide it from everyone, but today I'm exhausted and just don't have what it takes to hide behind a smile. I have kept myself overly busy trying not to think about how much it hurts, but when the day comes to an end and things quieten, I fall apart. Sometimes it happens throughout the day no matter how much I try to "keep it together". At times the tears flow without warning and the harder I try to stop them the faster they fall.
I miss her. The words don't even exist to describe how much I miss her.
Today Sara and I will be going to visit my dad. I dread walking into the house. It's the first time I've been there on a Wednesday since she died. I am sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Part of me wants to run the other way and not go. But I need to. It's a holiday, and I don't want my dad to be all alone today. I see him a couple of times a week, and I call him every day to check on him. I haven't been to the house since Mother's day though, and I haven't been there without my brother. Since we were leaving town on Father's day, we met him for breakfast before church, and we didn't go to the house.
It's so hard to be there, yet it's comforting at the same time. I don't know how to explain it. It seems so empty without her. It screams she's gone. I look at her spot on the couch where she always sat and it looks hollow. I have a hard time even being in that room. It's painful to be there, but it somehow makes me feel closer to her at the same time.
As much as I want to run the other way and not go today, I think about my dad. He lives there. I can't imagine how hard it is for him to come home every day to an empty house. My heart aches for him to also. He loves her so much, and his heart is bleeding too. He needs us as much as we need him.
*****
I had to stop tying this post because I was crying so hard I couldn't even see the screen. So I called Mary and sobbed for 20 minutes. I don't know how much she was actually able to understand me say because I was crying so hard, but I heard her loud and clear.
"The Lord will give you the grace to get through today."
I know He will, but it helps to hear someone remind me of this truth. It helps to be reminded of how He has given me the grace needed for every other day, and He'll give me the grace for today ... just like He'll give me the grace for tomorrow.
How do I know that?
Because my Bible ... HIS WORD ... tells me so.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. ~ Hebrews 13:8
As I was sitting on the carport waiting for the paramedics to bring my mom out of the house the day she died, the Lord gave me this verse. Over and over again I kept saying to myself, "My Jesus is the same Jesus as He was before this happened."
My Jesus is the same 15 weeks later.
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