ramblings

So I 're-started' this blog at the beginning of the summer as a platform for me to process and articulate some of the ups and downs of our journey facing the imminent loss of a loved one.

In one sense, that chapter has closed. Death has come, the funeral is done, the rest of the world moves on. From that perspective, I considered bringing this blog to an end as well, considering the fact that the 'real' journey has come to an end.

But I know that it's not true. It's not over. It may never be over.

I just heard from a friend that one of her close friends only went to grief counseling three years after she lost her brother, and her parents went back eight years after they lost their son. Another friend shared that her mother's wound of grief was re-opened after eighteen years, sparked by a collection of songs that her deceased spouse used to love. In a sense, grief never ends until the Lord's return or until He calls us home.

Having said all of this, there is much to be grateful for. Since I had a lot of time to 'prepare' for this chain of events (though it is true that one can never really prepare oneself), I spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like when the time came. In many ways, it did not transpire at all as I imagined it would.

Some things worth mentioning:

- Okay, I've mentioned this one before, but it's worth mentioning again: the Lord's grace has been far more abundant than I ever imagined it could be.

- My gratitude for the gift of salvation has emphasized the urgency for those who don't have Christ to be given the opportunity to repent and believe in Him. I can't imagine losing a loved one without having the assurance of their faith and trust in Christ. But... I may have to face that reality soon enough, if it is the Lord's will. In the meantime, I must fulfill my duty to proclaim the truth and trust the Holy Spirit to change hearts.

- What I have witnessed in this process has instilled in me a far greater fear of God and of His power. He alone has power over life and death, and in Him is the key to eternal life.

- I am thinking a whole lot more about heaven these days, mostly wondering what it is like. Silly thoughts, really, like when it is a beautiful day outside and I think to myself, "Oh, what a pity that Mom is missing such a glorious day. She would have loved this blue sky and sunshine." Then I think, "Hey, idiot. The weather is infinitely better in heaven on a permanent basis. We're livin' in the Shadowlands." Yet again, I will drive past one of mom's favorite restaurants and think, "How sad that she'll never be able to eat Chicken Pad Thai from Thai Palace or Mongolian beef from Mr. You's Chinese take-out." Then again, I realize, "Hey, idiot. The food is much better in heaven. The Chinese buffet on earth has got nothin' on heaven's buffet." Like I said, silly thoughts. Ridiculous, actually. In fact, I have no idea why I am disclosing them to whoever is reading this, but I suppose it is just to illustrate some of the 'unexpecteds' that have snuck up on me with each new day.

- I also did not expect to be able to laugh as much as I have since Mom died. Before she died, I didn't know how I would be able to crawl out of the anticipated hole of despair. But again, the Lord poured out more grace. In fact, we even had a good laugh as we sat waiting to form a procession into the funeral service last week Tuesday. My uncle started recounting a story from my wedding day, one which I had never heard. Apparently he had spilled mustard on his tie before the wedding and used brake cleaner to try to get the stain out. He claims that it worked, but admits, "The worst part was the smell!" :-) The same uncle provided barrels of laughter this evening when he walked straight into a closed screen door. Poor guy was the butt of all the jokes for the next two hours. I won't mention who he blames for closing the screen door in the first place. ;-)

I realize this post has become quite a directionless outpouring, but I suppose I just needed to get out a bit of a 'summary' if you will, an attempt to wrap up this trip as I prepare to head back to Cape Town tomorrow.

In a way, I think my naivety caused me to focus so much on the actual phone call and funeral that I haven't steeled myself much for the hardest part of all. That is, learning how to function in this new reality. A reality where people don't quite know what to say now, especially since they've been repeating the same line, "How's your mom?" for the past nine years. A reality where the kids might accidentally forget that Grandma isn't here anymore and ask if they can Skype her. A reality where Christmas presents don't come in the mail anymore.

A reality where the world keeps spinning, but the axis has shifted and everything feels significantly off-kilter.