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2003-01-03 - 11:33 a.m.
A mother's tears
Dear Edna, The balloons you released in memory of your daughter were found tangled in sagebrush by my son on Christmas Day at 10:45, 10 miles west of K which lies about 12 miles north of P and midway between S and R. He thinks they were forced down by the low pressure system moving thru the state. They were torn or he would have set them free again. He brought them to our home that afternoon and asked me to write you. I trust you don't mind my addressing you so familiarly. In some ways, I feel we are sisters. We belong to that sad family of those who have lost an adult child. I would also hope that we are sisters in another family, those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as our Saviour. The first family relationship has brought me the most pain I have ever known, the second relationship gives me the comfort and courage to keep going on. I know first hand the anguish you are feeling at this time. The wound is September-fresh, still raw and bleeding. I won't even try to tell you it will pass. It never will--but the edges wear down a bit with the passage of time. Very few days ever go by that I don't think of my oldest son J who died 13 years ago at 27. Occasionally, the grief comes stabbing back, bringing hot tears to my eyes, that seem to burn as they roll down my cheeks. I have been through all the clinical, DABDA, stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, some more than once. The anger stage is the worst. Anger at myself for what I might have done differently in his lifetime, anger at J for dying, anger at my comforters, and yes, anger at God for allowing this. But He is so good to me, always there, even in those times of futile anger. Ever understanding and ever ready to console. After all, He lost a beloved child also. And that is the most wonderful part for me, that because He gave his Child to die for all our sins, (John 3:16) I have a living Hope and confidence that I'll see my child again. I often think of the story of King David in II Samuel 12:15-23 where he loses a child. Verse 23 is especially precious; David realizing his son will not come back, makes this great statement '------I shall go to him----'. I am praying that you have this comfort, also. I am also enclosing the current newsletter of David Wilkerson, a missionary in New York City. He is not of my denomination, but we have the same Saviour, and he is a faithful declarer of God's Word. He, too, is going thru what you and I have, the death of a dear child. After seeing his wife and 2 daughters recover from cancer, one of his daughters is losing her daughter to brain cancer. I know that God will bring them thru this, but, oh, the dark valley of death that lies ahead. Their family is just entering it, you are fully there and I may be emerging. Psalm 23, that speaks of that dreaded valley, says somethng more about it that I treasure. It is really called 'the valley of the shadow of death (verse 4). Shadows pass, especially when the sun(Son) is present. Shadows are not real, or permanent, no matter how cold and dark they seem at the moment. A bright sun is behind the shadow, and an eternal life is waiting for us thru faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and the final coming to pass of His words, the Bible. Writing to you of this great Hope has brought comfort to my own heart once more. Something else that has helped a lot is a journal I started several months after my son's death. It began as a prayer journal, my cries to God and my remembrances of J. It was paper at first, and sometimes still is but more often it is an anonymous journal on the internet. Often I write just of daily life, but often also, my heart is soothed by memories that rise to the surface as I type in front of the computer. I pray you find comfort also, dear sister-in-sadness, in whatever manner. Our great God knows just what balm to use on our tired and hurting hearts. When I think of J, I will think of your P, as I think of the other children God has brought into my life the last 13 years. If there is anything I can do, or if you need another friend, I remain Kdip
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