Grief and Grace - Numbness and Anguish

February 11, 2009

Grief and Grace continue

Late last night something drew me to going through some of the notes and program from Daniel’s memorial service in Spokane and the names of people who attended the service in Denver.  I read Terry’s homily from Spokane and was reminded of the way the he wove our comments about unspeakable grief and amazing grace into the story of Jesus dealing with a grief-stricken family after the death of Lazarus.

Unspeakable grief and amazing grace continue to shape our journey. 

So many lonely and sad moments, contemplating a son’s life cut so much shorter than we expected or desired.  So many of our hopes and dreams for Daniel that can never be lived out; so much joy that he brought to so many that is now missed; sadness and grief that go beyond our words.

And, so many people who came to those services, sent cards, emails, and notes, and have cared for us and continue to care for us.  God’s grace has manifest itself to us through these caring people – in our sadness, we somehow also feel very blessed.

What a mystery!

February 2, 2009

Numbness and anguish

Some days I simply feel numb. 

I walk through the day, listening to others speak at meetings at work, trying to put a cogent response together when asked a question, and attempting to work at my ever-lengthening list of tasks piled up on my desk and in my email box.  Going through the motions of life, yet feeling detached and unable to connect with much of what is being said and done.

Staring blankly and feeling the same blankness – both seem to sum up my day today.

Yet this evening I was day-dreaming about Daniel’s final hours lying in his hospital bed in the ICU.  In my mind’s eye I could see him clearly and feel again the desperate anguish of watching him quietly die.  The anguish of my heart is still very real and I can reconnect with that feeling when I replay that scene in my mind.

Authors on grief say that people in my position fear losing the intensity of these feelings.  I understand that because I fear the day when the anguish of losing this boy may become less vivid – will that mean Daniel’s life is less vivid to me as well?