One Year

"I have felt its approach in the back of my mind, O Lord, like a burden tilting toward me across the calendar. I have felt its long approach, and now it has arrived. This is the day that marks the anniversary of my loss, and waking to it, I must drink again from the stream of sorrow that cannot be fully remedied in this life. O Christ, redeem this day." - Every Moment Holy, Volume II: Death, Grief, and Hope

Tuesday, November 29th, marked the one year anniversary of my mom's death. Like the quote above says, I have long felt it's approach. I had actually been dreading it since the leaves began to turn. Each peer out the window to see the brilliant colors of yellow and red and orange took my breath away, and not because it was beautiful (thought it was), but because I knew fall was closing in and so were the painful memories of all the events that occurred before, during, and after my mom's death last year. This date seemed like a looming mountain that I had to climb. And, honestly, all I wanted to do was hide.

But God gives more grace.

It's now December 2nd, and I have made it to the other side. The Lord carried me through largely on the prayers of others. Once I got past my birthday, which was just seven days before the dreaded day, the anxiety almost disappeared. The days seemed to get easier after that for some reason, but my awareness of last year's timetable was still very much on my mind, as revealed by the many dreams I have had of my mom and her house.

I miss my mom tremendously. I think of her all the time. I am so happy for her that she is no longer suffering and that her faith is now sight, but I miss her being a part of our lives. There are so many things I want to ask her and cannot. There are things I wish I could ask her about parenting and her childhood that I didn't think to ask before, but now never can. I miss talking to her about what the boys are doing and sending her pictures of them. I miss how she kept me connected to my extended family. I miss sharing all the little things with her that no one else would really care about, but she did. My mom took a special interest in the lives of others. She seemed to find everything I told her interesting, even if it really wasn't. I missed driving to see her this past Thanksgiving. 

Now that Christmas is around the corner, I miss talking to her about gift ideas for the boys. I used to get so frustrated by how many presents she bought them (too many), but now I wish she could just buy them even one. Gift-giving seemed to be her love language and she really enjoyed buying gifts for others. She actually had me order Christmas gifts for the boys from her while she was on the BiPap machine in the hospital last year, just a week before she died. She loved them so much and getting them something for Christmas was on her mind even in her final days. The gifts actually arrived the day she died and I was able to give them to the boys that day, which was a sweet providence. 

We have made it through a whole year of firsts. Like we do in memory of my dad, we took time on her birthday and Mother's day and this past Tuesday to remember my mom. I made a special photo book about the boys' grandparents, so we looked at that book together and talked about the memories we had of Grandma. I know the memories of my mom and her house will fade in the boys' minds as time passes (which makes me sad), so this is a way I hope to keep her memory before them. 

It's been a year and the pain is still very raw. It all still feels very recent in my mind's eye, as if it happened just weeks ago. But I know from experience that it will not always be this way. The pain will not always be so acute, but it will always mark me in some way. Someone has said that grief is our final act of love and reveals the extent to which we have loved the person who died. The tears will come and go and come again, but there is a day coming when One will finally and fully wipe them all away (Revelation 21:4). Until then, He collects them in His bottle and never lets one tear be wasted (Psalm 56:8). For what I also know is that even though grief is unpredictable and messy and this world is full of many sufferings and trials, there is a God who is ruling over it all and He has good and wise purposes that we could never fathom. And more than that, He is a God who enters into our suffering through the person of Jesus Christ. He walks with us in it and He became one of us so that He might bear our griefs and carry our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4). In fact, He was called the Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3). This is what Christians celebrate around the world at this time of year. Christmas is about the God who came to us to live for us, to die for us, and to save us so that we might be able to live with Him forever. Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil (sin and death), so that death no longer has the final word. Jesus is going to right every wrong and transform every suffering into something glorious. My heartache is not for nothing. This is the hope that carries me through the hardest of days.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:3-4

Thanksgiving 2020