When you're grieving silently...

I've been reminded lately as we've entered into the season of "spring" and new hope arises,

how many are still in a stage of grief around me.

Grieving unborn babies, wayward children, parents who are no longer with us, and the list goes on.

 

This message, this is for the woman, the man, the friend, who is grieving silently. 

 

For the one whose community felt so close after the initial shock of the loss,

but now seems so far away.

The one who is struggling to get your feet on the ground in the morning, 

let alone be productive, and excited for a "new season" to come along.

Who feels as if spring is coming for everyone else,

but for you, your still stuck in the dead of winter.

 

This is just a reminder that you are not alone.

 

Last night, my oldest adopted kiddo (20) shared at our foster adoptive support group at The Nest, and the grief welled up inside me... i knew, unavoidable. 

Not the grief of his life. I literally rejoice every single day over this kid, and the ways God has healed him, the decisions he has made in the past year, and his future that is ever before him.

I grieve because my other one, the one locked in my heart.. is somewhere out there.. on his own.

 

The funny thing about grief, is that is comes in waves.

You grieve things that aren't even dead, did you know that?

 

Of course you grieve true death, and loss.

But you also grieve relationships that are broken, which you desperately want to be mended.

You grieve your idea of "parents" that maybe never was what it ended up being.

 

In life, no matter who you are, grief is unavoidable.

And grief has a way of coming around and welling up inside when we least expect it.

 

I don't really know how to explain to people anymore the place we are in with our youngest of our oldest 2 not with us physically. The traumatic shock of it is gone for everyone else, but sometimes it wells up and overtakes me without me noticing.

Grief.

Its weird like that.

 

But heres the thing. As we go into spring.. I recognize that only parts of my heart will remain in winter.

(this is a metaphor by the way).

As in, My heart will always be saddened when I think of the grief we've experienced in the past year and a half over our second oldest and the life he's chosen away from us.

My heart will always grieve for my oldest when he talks of his brother, and how a limb seems to be missing from him, from time to time.

The tears will ALWAYS come when my 4 year old asks "when is Logie coming home mommy?".. even though he hasn't lived in our physical house for over 2 years now.

 

Grief is inevitable when a person leaves.

Whether by choice, or not.

But there are waves.

There are parts of our hearts which carry on into spring, new blossom, new waves of excitement, new gifts, and new rejoicing.

And there are parts of our heart that stay in winter.

 

They ebb and flow, without regard to whats "convenient" to us.

 

And if I've learnt anything along the way in my small journey with grief, it's that there is hope in my heart for a future that is not yet seen.

One eternally, and one here on earth.

And to that, I cling, I long for, and I hope for.

Hope.

Im clinging to that with you today, friend.