Thursday, October 10, 2013

Thoughts

Well it's been a little quiet around here. I guess I haven't felt like talking (or writing). Many of you here know that's not my strong suit anyway, especially when it comes to how I'm feeling. I like to keep everything neatly boxed up and work through it in my own mind and on my own terms. Not always very effective.

Tonight I visited with a special friend and had a chance to talk about Emma, have that good cry that was overdue, and even share Emma's picture. It all felt really good. Sharing her picture especially. There are a lot of feelings that go along with that, probably enough for a whole post, and I don't have the energy for that.

The other night the song Take My Hand, Precious Lord popped into my head. It is one of the songs we played at Emma's memorial service. Some of the words really capture how I feel right now, and they are sometimes the only prayer I can mutter.

"Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light..."

Worn is exactly how I feel. This week has been long and trying. It's been one of the weeks that I just want to be alone in the quiet safety of my home talking to no one. One of the weeks that I am in disbelief of my life and the weight of grief that I will always carry. It sounds dark and gloomy but that's grief for you.

4 comments:

  1. Sarah-
    You are always in my prayers. I hope one day you can realize how amazingly strong you are.

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  2. Yes, Grief sucks! No way around it. I remember waking up in the mornings and for a split second forgetting, and then remembering (and that remembering hit like a ton of bricks every time). And then as the intense grief was subsiding, I began to actually miss it. I know that it sounds weird....miss the grief?? Yes, because by then, the grief was so familiar to me that missing the grief was just another loss. I know I am a weird-o, but what the heck. As Popeye said "I yam what I yam". ;>)

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    Replies
    1. I completely get that, Elly. This grief becomes your identity, and I can imagine it's hard to figure out who you are and how to live your life once it is in the background rather than all encompassing.

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