Choosing to SEE - Mary Beth Chapman [99]
October 22, 2009
I started this post yesterday . . . I couldn’t finish it . . . got frustrated and teary and just walked away.
I had a few things to do, a couple of appointments and errands, and then it happened. I realized that I was all alone. The boys were out of town, the girls were in school, and I had about two or three hours before I needed to pick up Shaoey and take her to trauma counseling. (What a fun extra-curricular activity that is. Some kids play soccer . . . others go to trauma therapy!)
I hate being alone these days, which is ironic because I usually like being alone. But these lonely days leave me open to do nothing but think! Especially on days that happen to be the twenty-first of any month, it is just a little bit harder.
I’m sure as time continues to be a friend and carry us closer to the reality of our true home and inheritance with Christ, it will be . . . well, maybe not easier, but different. Maybe a shift of perspective that life is moving by at a faster and faster pace, and that we really are just passing through this land to our permanent home with Christ.
Feeling all this, I did what any sad, grieving mom might do. I went to T.J. Maxx!
You see, I’m not a shopper. I don’t like or care about brand names. I avoid the mall unless it is Christmas and I have to purchase gifts for family members. And when I do have to make a retail selection, the bargain hunter in me is unveiled! T.J. Maxx is my friend!
A lot of times I just get a buggy and stroll the aisles, not putting a single thing in my cart. I just stroll, think, and cry as I think of how desperately I miss that chubby-bellied, pigeon-toed, sloppy kisser of a girl.
Yesterday, seventeen months later, I still caught myself bargaining with God to give Maria back to me, to somehow let her be manifested so that I could just see her for a minute, or at least get a small whiff of her sweet, sweaty smell. I would have loved to just feel the sensation of me kissing the fat of her neck and blowing Zerberts until she giggled so hard she could barely speak!
Why? It’s been seventeen months! I still think about her that much and miss her that much! I don’t know whether I’m stuck . . . stuck in grief . . . or if I’m simply a mom! A mom who knows exactly how many days it’s been since she heard, “Mommy, will you put Cinderella’s gloves on for me? Thanks, Mommy, I love you!”
I really hesitate sometimes to write these truest of true thoughts down. I find myself thinking, “Whoever is reading this probably thinks I need to just get over it and move on.”
I want you all to know that I am making progress. The waves roll in a little less frequently, but they still roll in. And as far as getting over it, I won’t. I’ll get through it, not over it.
There is a part of me that will be and is forever changed and different because I buried a child at five years old!
Now, that’s not to say I won’t ever experience joy. I already have . . . in plenty of ways. I’ve had two children get married since Maria went to be with Jesus! What joy it was to see my children so in love and happy . . . true joy. Yet, what was forever changed was the fact that I will still go through those joyous times very aware of my brokenness and my sadness.
It’s really okay! In fact, God entrusted me with it. Why? Trust me? I don’t even want to talk about the why question. But ultimately, God wanted to use our family to live out this kind of story here on earth.
I only pray that when people see us battling it out and crying our guts out and loving till it hurts, that they know we are doing our best to honor the One who blessed us with Maria for five beautiful years.
Did I want more years? You better believe I did . . . but I also know that Maria didn’t live one day longer than she was supposed to. She was never going to learn to ride her bike without training wheels, drive a car, go on a date,