I am at a loss. For a lot of things these days. I am at a loss to know how to help a person going through what Jami is going through. I ache to "fix" something, ANYTHING, to ease her pain. Which is, of course, impossible.
I am at a loss for words. For Jami. For her family. For people who ask me about it.
And... I am acutely feeling LOSS in general. It's been a terribly frightening, uncomfortable month altogether. I'm.... still reeling. I know I've been cryptic, and alluded to fear a lot recently... And also said I'd explain eventually. I guess this is as good a time as any. Last Thursday, I was eight weeks pregnant. Last Friday, I was not. Still a fresh wound, and discovered only two days after the terrible shock of Kam's death.
I have to say, though... if there ever is a GOOD time for something like losing an early pregnancy, this would be it-- losing something so small in the face of something so BIG-- it lends a deep, rich, poignant perspective. Truly, I am sad for myself. I am. But. What I have lost is NOTHING like what sweet Jami has lost. What her sweet son has lost. And in the face of my own small faith in eternity, I am forced to see and to understand PERSPECTIVE. That I have my burdens to bear, but in comparison to many people, those who are sick and those who are oppressed and those who are alone and those who are suffering-- in comparison to those, my burdens are but a small load. And I am truly blessed with the life I have.
Still, I am at a loss. Experiencing loss, trying to understand loss... I am at a loss. And I am so far off center. I am not myself these days, and I miss me. I guess... well, I AM me... still. I feel like me. I just don't feel like doing the mundane nonsense and routine I've been doing so much lately. I don't feel like the foggy half-living is doing it for me. I feel, these days, more like: skipping laundry AGAIN and playing with Noah. Taking time off of work and being kind to ME. Reading rich, deep, good books. Listening to quiet, insightful music. Praying. A lot. Walking outside. Hugging Joe for longer. Criticizing less. WASTING TIME ON FACEBOOK LESS. Working less.
Altogether not bad things.... All good things... And all in the name of healing my heart and my spirit. Trying to peel away the useless, the waste, the fog, and get to what really matters again. And yet, even with that sounding so marvelous and ideal, I must confess, I am not really totally succeeding there either... Because, for now still, at least, I am still kind of bummed. And some pockets of the day I just want to do NOTHING-- not the old patterns, not the new patterns... just NOTHING but get through that pocket, that mood. So.... I continue to be gentle with myself. Tell myself I can allow some healing a bit longer.
And... it's been such a strange circle of affirmation, despair, hope, loss, shut-down, connection, goals, understanding, discouragement, courage, and sorrow... all cycling over and over through me and around me with my own loss, with Jami's loss, with the unexpected gifts coming out of this time-- the friends and the notes and the laughter in strange places and the human contact-- the hugs and hands and love...Just strange. And terrible. And wonderful.
And I hope.... I hope it refines me into a better ME, eventually. I hope this is a time meant to help mold me, to change me, to remind me of TRUTH, and the beauty of the gospel. I hope I stay awake at least a little after these upsets. The awareness that life is precious, that people are with us only for a while... that we need to follow through on the promptings and impulses we feel... That we need to give and give and give some more, if we can... The awareness that I AM NOT IN CONTROL HERE.... and I need to have faith.
I'm.... tired. I should get to bed. (Yikes... just looked at the time. Oops.) I just needed to.... write a bit. End the weekend with some pondering. And... to release some of this deep, strange emotion.
If you get a minute, will you go visit Jami's blog? Will you tell her I sent you and that you are thinking of her? She needs... prayers. She needs... any strength that can be sent her way. I wish I lived right next door to her. I wish I could help. Somehow. Singing at the funeral is a minuscule gift to give, and I am left knowing it was not enough.
I am left with so many images from the weekend with them that haunt me... and yet, I am also left with awe at Jami's strength and faith in the face of a future that is nothing short of terrifying.
And with that, my heart hurting again, I'm going to go.... But I want to leave a few photographs of Jami's family, from last summer. From a happy time. Images I hope will be a comfort to Kason when he is older... When he tries to remember his dad's incredible smile.
Thanks for letting me freewrite a bit.... I'm off to bed.