riding the waves


I had absolutely no intention of blogging tonight, I have been working on candles for about 4 hours, and was working on the tedious task of cleaning up wax drips and putting away the various paraphernalia I use and was really looking forward to going to bed.  Until I realized it was 12:23 am, August 16.

When I realized the day had turned over my eyes immediately filled with tears, catching me completely by surprise and my heart just filled with that incredible heaviness, that physical hurt.  It hurts to hurt.  My eyes burn, my throat is tight, I can hardly breathe.  My chest is like lead.

I have been avoiding going to this place so much lately.  Trying so hard to avoid that hurt.  Feeling like I had to try really hard to distract myself lest I get sucked down into the mire of grief.

It has not been hard to stay busy and distracted.  Guatemala, of course- getting ready to go, being there, reflecting on the week, thinking about my goals going forward.  Working on making the Live Like Lucas foundation happen.  Trying to figure out what to do about the race. It just isn’t going to be able to happen this fall, sadly but instead next summer.  It is an extremely involved process and every duck has to be in a row.

Oh and of course my four other children.  My 24/7 job.  Well almost.  I do get a night off now and then…

I guess what I am getting at is I feel another tidal wave coming on.  The mind will only let you tuck away those thoughts for so long before they coming flooding out again and what better day than 7 months to the day that my son went to heaven.

The feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach of that of total fear.  I have lost him.  I have lost him until heaven and that just seems so far away.  I have thousands of hours, millions of minutes to survive until I can finally join him in heaven -although no one knows how much time they have.

I wish so badly, that I could take him to drivers training. To go get school supplies. I ache to have him with us at the pool with us. To sit next to him on the couch watching Big Bang Theory. To take him and his friends bowling.   I see his friends and classmates on my Facebook news feed every day, their lives continuing on at a rapid exciting pace and my son’s has stopped.

It is beyond comprehension.

I could have written 10,000 plans for my life and not one of them would have included losing a child.

Like a million carat diamond ring slipping into the bottom of the ocean.  Only worse. Much much worse.

I have been avoiding that pain of loss.  The one that goes all the way into the marrow of your bones.  I carry the heaviness every day, that will never stop. Never.  But that deep grief, there is a time.  God knows when that time is.  He is holding me in the palm of his hand, just like before, just like today, just like tomorrow.  He will not let me drown in my suffering.

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

    a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
    a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
    a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
    a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
    a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
    a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

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