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Storms have come

July 12, 2010

I’m speaking of course, of actual storms. But the metaphor can work both ways.

Last night, the sweet smell of rain in the desert air wafted through our bedroom as we slept.  But did I sleep…? No.  I may have gotten a few hours total, but it was bits and pieces.  No one likes to have fragmented sleep…

The past week has been really hard for me, and it continues to be so if this morning is anything to go by.  I’ve been told I think too much…I probably do.

I miss Michael so much, I feel like I have to say that every second, for you to beginning to see the edge of the grief I feel.  Even that wouldn’t conve how much I hurt, how much I love him, how much I grieve him being gone.

My MISS hope mentor  said it in a way I can ‘see’ right now, ‘You need to give yourself time to grief, you need to give Michael his time.’

Why do I feel like I need permission to grieve my own son? Why must I wait until the ‘right’ moment to lose it?  There is no right moment for things like this. I want to let it go, this grief I carry. I want to put it down, put it into a box, high on a shelf, forget it.  But grief doesn’t work like that, it doesn’t really care what I want right now.  It just sits next to me, arm around me shoulder, an invisible wall around me.  If you come close enough, you’ll see grief.  If you talk to me, you’ll hear grief.  If you hug me, you’ll hug grief.   Some of you won’t ever feel this grief, and I am glad for you.  I wish I was still in your ranks.  This is the exclusive club that NO ONE is fighting to get into.  Membership is forced upon us.  It has a renewal date every year, with frequent reminders through out the year of our membership, and the reason we’re in this club.

God, isn’t there a clause where I can get out of this club? I want out! I want Michael. I want to be free from the grief that binds to me.

Lamentations 2: 19b

” …Pour out your heart to Him like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him, for the life of your young children…”

Oh God, don’t you see me? I am crying out to You, and I don’t hear anything back.  I plead night and day for You to be near me, and I feel nothing but pain, depression and horrible grief! Why aren’t here?  Where are You…

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