Grief

It is amazing how much you can forget in 11 years... just like childbirth (or C-sections), if you remembered, it would never happen again, at least as much as you can control...

As the days go by, I remember more and more the grief that was felt after John David entered the Gates of Heaven on December 9, 2001. It amazes me how I forgot the intense pain. The heartache. The longing. The intense depression that followed...

When death catches you off guard, the grief is so much greater. Who expects to have a baby die? Who expects for their child to die after having gallbladder surgery - esp after that person was doing remarkably better? But you do expect a person who had been battling an illness to die...

The pain is real. It is debilitating at times. There are many times I want to just fall to the floor screaming like I did after I received that call 16 days ago. So much different from the pain I felt when my grandparents died - that was expected. A baby and a 21yo? Really?

I wish grief had a timeline.  A routine. Something that told you how to feel when and for how long, but that is far from the case. Grief changes day to day. Minute to minute...

I know that God knew when He created Maura, just like each of us, how many days we would be here. How many breaths we would take. My head knows that this was His plan and has been all along. It is my heart that wants to fight it. My heart that wants to argue with Him and fight until she is back here doing her crazy dances. Talking to us in the language only she understands. Holding onto her books...

I continue to search for the peace that she is with her baby brother, our Heavenly Father, and Blessed Mother. It is a peace that only they can provide...

One day, the tears will end. The grief will lessen. Life will feel normal. When that day comes, I will welcome it with open arms. I will embrace it and not let go...