As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. -- Isaiah 55:10-11

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Life Moving On--Part 1

When my dad passed on, I got through his last hospital stay, his last day with us, his death, and the funeral relatively unscathed. Amazing what the human mind and body can do when one sets her mind to a task. People who watched from the outside were amazed at how well I did, how strong I was.

One friend, though, had the courage to pull me aside and ask, "So you are taking care of everyone else, and you are doing a great job. When are you going to crash?" In three weeks, I told him. He said he would be there. I don't know if he was prepared for how bad the crash was, but I wasn't.

I expected to cry, to miss my dad. I knew I'd pick up the phone to dial his number only to remember he wouldn't pick up. I knew I'd go home and his chair would be empty, and I knew I would choke and my heart would miss a beat or two.

I also expected when the funeral was done and all the activitiy was finished, I'd go home, have a long sleep, and jumpr right back into life where normal had left off. That was one of the greatest delusions of my whole life. I knew "normal life" no longer existed, but I didn't realize the "normal me" didn't either. I couldn't make it exist. I couldn't make me exist, not like I had been, and the harder I tried to do so, the worse things became.

Last week we buried my mom after a wild two months of doctor's visits, hospital stays, and emergency issues. The flurry of activity is over, but life won't go back to normal. It can't. I'm not "normal" either, not the normal I was. I never will be that person again, and instead of fighting that, I'm working with it, not letting it control, but letting it lead some. And I am giving myself grace and time.

These posts are my journey into the adjustment of my mom being gone and life moving on. Hope it encourages you to embrace life moving on, too.

1 comment:

Carmel said...

Ah, Jerri, you speak right to my heart, my friend. I remember you helping me through after my Mum died. I'm so thankful you're remembering that wisdom and walking in it. And I'm thankful you're open and honest enough to share so that others may be encouraged and blessed. I love you.