As the two year anniversary of my daughter’s death quickly approaches, friends and family have been asking me how I’m doing. Some wonder how I will spend March 22–do I want the women to surround me again in prayer at the cemetery followed by brunch at my house like we did last year?
Others ask if the second year is easier than the first one. A year ago, I compared my grief to labor and I said that grief can be overwhelming just like transition during labor can be overwhelming and I said that this transition will end.
So has my transition in grief ended? I would have to say that this approaching Spring is much easier than last year’s February and March. A year ago, it seemed like I had to force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I was walking around numb, dreading Abby’s upcoming birthday, upcoming heaven day, upcoming Easter. I felt nauseous all the time. Parts are difficult, of course, but this year, I have none of the dread.
I am reflecting on my 2 years with her and my two years without her. Yesterday, I read the journal I kept after her death. I don’t think I opened it since the day I stopped writing in it about 8 months after she died. The last couple entries are cynical; I had forgotten I felt that way. I’m paging through her photo album more often. I’m reading letters and cards that people sent me the first year.
Instead of my grief being tied to a certain day or the approach of certain days, it is just there. The reality of her absence is just here all the time. I look at my four children and think that there are five, there should be five, there are five. But one is missing. Always missing. There will always be that gaping hole between my second and fourth child because the third has slipped from this life into eternity.
As I reflect on where I was a year ago and where I am now, I am pleased at the healing I see. I am in a new transition.
Leave a comment