A large snag.
A very unexpected death of a good friend of my husband's type large snag. The morning after he spent much of the day out on a boat fishing with him... doing what they loved, laughing and talking life. And then... hours later... gone. But that isn't my story to tell.
It was only my story to watch and walk beside.
I cried tears for my friend as she said goodbye to her dear husband and comforted her children. I cried tears for my husband as he processed spending his friends last day of life with him. I cried tears for my youngest middle teenager as he processed the memories of time spent with him as a wrestling coach and with him and his son on many trips to Iowa games and to Canada fishing. I watched the memorial video of photos of a life quite similar to my own - family photos at Disney and other outdoor destinations, photos of him in camo with deer and fish and other wildlife, in Dutch Costumes (well, actually the exact same Dutch Costume of my husband to be exact) ... anyway all of that isn't my story to tell. But it was so very very close to having could have been... and that was so very hard to walk beside and hold hands with.
Not one but two songs that were part of Faith's funeral were sung at his funeral, over ten years later. As much as I wanted to boldly sing those words I could not get the words out. Just tears... that was all that would come out. Just tears. They are also both already written in the little notebook of instructions for my own funeral (as they have been for the last ten years)... (songs links posted below)
The moment before ... and the moment after. Again. Another. Another place. Another phone call.
This time there were so many more photos, and memories, and moments to recall. There was 48 years of life lived and loved before it abruptly ended. Unlike the zero days, zero memories, zero photos (minus a few ultrasounds printouts) from a stillborn child's life.
But it's not a comparison. It's not a game. Both a tragedy and both a goodbye far earlier than anyone hoped or expected. Both called to Heaven before anyone on earth was ready to give them up.
So... I have been living "there" in my head for the last while. And that's a bit of a hard and lonely place to be hanging out at again. It's a place that others who have been "there" may somewhat know, but also may not really know.
It's individual. It's personal. It's different for everyone. It's a void... that's sometimes really really loud and chaotic and intense and complicated and overwhelming. It's also a very very quiet place that keeps you awake all night long while you lay there listing to ... absolutely nothing.
And yes, as I've said before, all of this current loss isn't directly mine, it isn't my story to tell... and yet, those little tendrils of others loss and trauma still seem to find their way in and touch pieces and parts of my own story, my own loss and traumas. So, while I've tried to stay quiet and not share or make this anything about me, because none of this is about me... and yet... in it's own unique ways, loss apparently does still manage to briefly and unknowingly latch on to tiny bits of our own stories and quietly come inside and stay for a while. And for each of us the visit and length of stay I am sure is different. The interaction is different. We can try ignore it. We can try invite it in and try sit down for coffee and just work through it.
And you know me and my love of coffee and conversations. So yes, that is where I am. I am camped out with some of my grief and trauma and getting through a few sleepless nights and slowly working through a few hard things (not all of my current "hard" is related to this specific grief and trauma, but it has it's big 'ol octopus tentacles pretty wrapped around everything, which I say with a smile and chuckle... It is well, with my soul...)
Also, it's eleven years ago that my Journey to Faith actually started. Thanksgiving. Eleven years ago. I was sick. So so so very sick. I was pregnant, but didn't know it, and wouldn't find out until February. But the body remembers. We were also dealing with a rotten pumpkin that seeped through the carpet into the subfloor and had our entire living room and dining room tore apart and had to deal with a DHS call (long story short we were fully investigated and nothing was found wrong or filed against us, but never a worst time to need to have your home and life inspected by DHS).
I am going to post a link to both of the songs played at Faith's funeral that I cried through at our friends funeral below - if you would like to take a few minutes to listen and watch. Maybe even turn up the volume and close your eyes. It's ok to cry. It's ok to lift up your arms. (It's also ok to skip clicking the links all together, honestly, it's ok).
Speaking of Thanksgiving I think I will end this with a promise that my next post will be a recap of Thanksgiving 2024 - one year ago - spoiler alert - grand baby #2 was announced (yes yes I know grand baby #1 announcement has not been blogged about yet... perhaps that will be the next post)
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