Here’s something I (Dave) wrote earlier this week.
July 29th, 2013
It’s been one week since our little girl went home to be with Jesus. I still struggle to acknowledge that reality when I’m staring into her room at night. Since much of the time when she was alive was spent in expectation of the next visit to the hospital, it’s hard to shake the feeling that this is just one of those 4 hour blocks of waiting, that we’ll be able to see her again soon. But that’s not the case. We’ll never see her again on this side of eternity. In those brief moments when I let my mind accept that reality, I find myself desperately clinging on to all my memories of her. I stare at pictures and try to remember what it was like to feel the warmth of her skin, the smell of her body, and the sound she would make when she was “snoring”. I drown myself in the music we listened to for 3 days straight as we waited for the Lord to take her. Each song a vivid memory of a moment I spent with her.
When I’m not allowing my mind to be flooded with theses memories and feelings, I’m looking for ways to be distracted. I’ll put on a movie, clean the apartment, play a game. But none of those things can last very long so I jump between them so my mind doesn’t have a chance to settle in. And then I wonder how long I can keep this up. When will things be normal again? When will I stop waking up thinking that ít’s almost time to see Sophia at the hospital, only to get thrown back into a somber reality that there’s no one there to visit.
Maybe a piece of reality is accepting the new normal. We’ve joined the the woeful “club”of parents who have lost a child. No one ever wishes to be in this club, but is instead added to the members list against their own will. Parents in this club are forced to rebuild a normal life around the memories of their child. At the onset of this, it seems all but impossible. The pain cuts too deep. I can’t get but a few bricks in before it all crumbles again. But then I realize and remember the blessed assurance that our daughter is in heaven and that same hope in Christ will be the mortar that we use to rebuild. It’s a slow process and some days I may only lay down one brick, or none at all. But praise be to God who “will strengthen us, help us and uphold us with his righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10)
Love you and miss you Sophia,