It’s now been six months since Katie left us – such a small amount of time that seems like an eternity. Have we made progress? Yes, much! Do we still ache with longing to see our daughter once again? Yes, indeed!
We started a Grief Share group at our church two weeks ago which I believe is going to be very helpful for us. It is small, with just four families involved, all who have lost children. In my opinion, losing a child is very different than losing a spouse, parent, or other loved one. The grief pieces are similar; the ramifications of the loss are, I believe, deeper. It is my prayer that each of us will not only comfort and strengthen the others in this group, but to actually rise victorious from our grief.
The shock of losing Katie is diminishing (though I still have brief periods of thinking, “I can’t believe this really happened to us.”). However, the reality of the loss is increasing. Truly, I should say “losses”. We did not just lose a daughter and a sister – we lost the potential joy and satisfaction of seeing her graduate from high school and college, fall in love, get married, have children, have cousins for her siblings, watch her be her best friends’ bride’s maids, and all the myriad of other highlights of one’s future. David and Anna have had a significant loss which they will carry into their adulthood, as will her very close friends.
Yet, despite all of these losses, I fully believe that Katie did not depart this Earth one day earlier than had been planned for her. “Man’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.” (Job 14:5) I want her here with us; yet, God’s ways are higher than our ways, and I am in no position to argue with His reasoning. It is an act of daily submission to His will, not mine, being done.
The Lord has been teaching me many things, and I am making copious notes. The website I wanted to start, though, takes more mental energy than I have stored up at this point in time. My new mantra is “Just do the next thing.” Sometimes this is as basic as folding clothes or taking a shower; sometimes it is as mentally challenging as making dental and doctors’ appointments. To get the website up and going will have to wait until I can move beyond just being able to “doing the next thing.”
In our last Grief Share meeting, there was a suggestion was to write a “Grief Letter” to give to friends and family. Grief is an awkward situation on both sides of the aisle. What do you say to me if you see me? How much do I share with you about where I am mentally, emotionally, spiritually? Anyway, I thought I’d give it a try here:
Dear Friend,
I know it’s uncomfortable for you to interact act with me in my state of grief. You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to make me sad. It’s ok. I understand. Safe and good statements could sound something like this:
“I want you to know I think about you and Katie often. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I was thinking about Katie the other day. I remember when….”
“I will continue to pray for your family’s healing.”
Don’t be afraid to mention Katie; it is my joy to talk about her and remember her. If I cry, don’t worry…while it may be uncomfortable to watch me cry, it really is a good thing; you have not made me sad. Crying helps relieve the built up sadness that is always present in my heart and mind.
We will make it through this difficult time. I fully believe that things will get better. We will learn to live, and love, and laugh once again. And, as our pastor said to Michael and I, “There is still story to be written.”
Thank you for your continued prayers for our family!
Sherrie
To My Dear Katie,
I love and miss you more each day. The only thing that carries me though is the grace and peace I receive from Jesus, and the absolute sure belief that I will see you again. I am holding on to that promise!
As my first child, you hold a magical place in my heart. I treasure the memories of receiving you on May 2, 1999, in a hotel room in Nanning, Guangxi, China. Within the first few minutes, you quickly learned that we were suckers for you; you had us wrapped around your little finger from day one. That never stopped.
I miss your voice most of all. I can’t hear you, and can’t remember how you sound, and that makes me sad.
I ask Jesus often to tell you I love you, and that I always will. You absence is deeply felt in our family and with those who loved and knew you well. I pray that the next six months, six years, six decades, flies quickly, and I will see you once again.
4th of July just passed and I grieved for you several times that day. You had an unusual love of your new country, America. Your interest in politics at a young age of 15 amazed me. I think it was guided by your clear-cut sense of what was right and what was wrong. You would have made an excellent judge!
Well, sweetheart…I wish I could kiss you good-night. Jesus, will you please give Katie a big hug from her mom? Thank you, Lord, for the promise of Heaven!
Mom
1 comment