Today as I got my three girls off to school-combed their hair, helped with their lunches, laughed with them, hugged them, kissed them and sent them off on the bus-
For the first time in 10 months I thought, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
Then I sat on the couch with my snuggly little three year old in his fuzzy jammies and he wrapped his arms around my neck so tight and I thought-
I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
They are so so so precious. I knew it all along, I never forgot. It was just that the pain was so large and looming it over shadowed any feelings of wanting to live this life. I knew I HAD to. I just didn’t WANT to. I put one foot in front of the other because cerebrally I knew that there simply wasn’t another option but my heart wasn’t really it.
I guess that is the only real way that you can explain the extremity of the pain and devastation of losing a child- it overshadows your entire life, even the really good things, and makes it hard to see what is really in front of you. I imagine it a little bit like having cancer and the pain is so unbearable you just want to die despite the fact that you still have children to live for. Forgive me if that is an insensitive comparison.
Except it’s not really like that. There are no drugs for grief.
Only those who have lost a child will truly understand.
Brooklyn is the last to get on the bus and as she was getting her stuff together I playfully slapped her on the booty (am I wierd?) commenting on how she has the tiniest butt in the world.
I used to say the same thing to Lucas. He was 6 foot four and had NO BUTT. It was a running joke. Immediately pain flooded me like acid through my veins.
It is a constant paradox. Joy and misery. Comfort and sorrow.
Yesterday I was searching through a basket of junk I hadn’t gone through in a long time and found the birthday card I had give Lucas for his 15th birthday. His last birthday. The check he had received was still in it.
How…to even wrap your mind around that fact. She sheer wrong-ness of it. I curled up into the fetal position and begged for God to take me to heaven where I could see that baby whose birthdays were now going to be spent there.
By the sheer grace of God I was able to recover from that blow and still make it to my Live Like Lucas foundation meeting. My board is amazing. Phenomenal. Mind-blowingly talented. They lift me up, they carry me, they comfort me, they give me hope. They are willing to sacrifice their time and energy to help carry out the legacy of my son. They are all working like crazy people to make things happen- awesome things- that will soon be unveiled.
It is a beautiful thing. It is a beautiful thing when God provides for us exactly what we need.
He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.