9 Months

Moments after Heidi's death, Kevin and I stood at her bedside, emotionally spent to our very last drop, but marveling at the beauty of my marred sister laying there at peace. Even in that moment, I recognized that the day had felt very much like a long and exhausting labor, culminating not in the rejoicing of newborn life entering the world, but the crucible of death and the hidden victory of eternal life won.

There's no timeline for grief which ebbs and flows on its own, but it felt appropriate to mark out the next nine months as a hallowed time of pondering... So I did, anticipating this date with the question of what might come next.

I woke this morning, forgetful of the day's importance. We're hosting 5 additional kids for the weekend, the day is filled to the brim driving to various events, the bright Autumn sun is shining through colorful leaves not yet fallen, and I sense it will be just another day. ...not that I was expecting otherwise, but it marks something for me, however irrational my nine month logic may have been.

What's next? a brutal three month dive into the winter world and the cold, dark remembering of those final weeks. Pray for us. I am grateful I wrote so much on the Caring Bridge site, and then my blog, in those early days. I reread both recently, for the first time, and through the haze of tears, I thanked my former self for the words that spoke the truth that I find the need to reclaim: unfathomable grace held us through that horror. Time has tried to erase the grace and underline the horror, but as I read, I was able to recall how I could confidently proclaim, "He is still good."

Nine months is not long, and yet I want tidy bows knotting the loose threads of loss; concrete hope-filled ends to this story. This frayed life is a hard place to live, a suffering extending forward, lost in the horizon. Almost daily I'm asked how Kevin and the kids are doing. I wish I had an answer beyond, "managing," but what answer is there? Heidi, pray for us.