I admit I struggle with saying soul so often in connection to my sweet, healthy, beautiful youngest child. Soul, cemetery, grief, spirit … All words which I almost choke on when I realize they are now connected to one of my children who should still be here living her life.
I detest and resist being a grieving mother. There is not one effing thing about this title which makes sense to me. I want to scream or throw up from the reality that I have had this role forced on me against my will.
While my faith has been shaken, my husband’s faith has served him well on the other side of Devastation Day. More than once he has comforted me with his interpretation of what he takes away from mass.
Yesterday he came home after Saturday night mass and told me he had gotten a lot out of the mass because it was devoted to All Souls Day, which is today. He had mentioned this upcoming mass to me last week and I know he was secretly hoping I would go, but I am not ready. He casually mentioned that they were asked to pray for those who had lost their faith as a result of a loss of a loved one. Yep, that would be me.
While he grieves Amy and misses her as much as I do, he believes that our Amy is in a better place and that her energy and spirit continues to surround us. He reassures me we will see her again. No one knows how important believing that is true; my survival depends on it. He and my sister, Danita, have been reassuring me since the very first day that our life was shattered into a zillion pieces, that Amy is fine. They never blink an eye when I ask them again and again if they still believe that Amy is ok. Quite frankly, there have been times when I would have lost my mind if I didn’t believe them.
One of the readings yesterday comforted my husband so he printed this out as he does other words he finds comforting to him.
Book of Wisdom, Chapter 3:1-9
1 But the souls of the upright are in the hands of God, and no torment can touch them.
2 To the unenlightened, they appeared to die, their departure was regarded as disaster,
3 their leaving us like annihilation; but they are at peace.
4 If, as it seemed to us, they suffered punishment, their hope was rich with immortality;
5 slight was their correction, great will their blessings be. God was putting them to the test and has proved them worthy to be with him;
6 he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a perfect burnt offering.
7 At their time of visitation, they will shine out; as sparks run through the stubble, so will they.
8 They will judge nations, rule over peoples, and the Lord will be their king for ever.
9 Those who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love; for grace and mercy await his holy ones, and he intervenes on behalf of his chosen.
I honestly don’t know what to make of all of this but my blog is where I keep my grief stuff so I am posting this for me more than anyone who stumbles across this post. Mainly, because I cannot preach what I still struggle with so its not meant to be debated. I respect everyone’s right to believe or not to believe and I especially respect my husband’s strong faith which has helped me to keep the door open to finding mine again.
Things have happened which convince me that my daughter is still close to me and that’s what gets me through the night. She sends us amazing signs but of course I want more. And more than anything I want her back.
So my posting is just words that I may want to revisit which may or may not help me. In the meantime, I will light my daily candle for my Amy’s soul; maybe I will light two today since it’s All Souls’ Day. The second candle will be in memory of all the beautiful children whom I have learned about as a result of this blog. From the bottom of my broken heart, I am so very sorry that we share the title of grieving parents. It’s just not fair.
Remembering my Amy and your beautiful children today.