Time

I'm researching all I can, trying to find the answer of just how long the pain will last.  There are no times, just the assurance that, it will indeed hurt ...for a long while.  People all around us, known and unknown, survive the weight of grief.  They smile, laugh ...live.  I've experienced loss before, but nothing comes close to this.  Yet, even people with a similar loss survive.  I want the pain to be gone.  I don't typically get bogged down, trapped in my emotions.  Now, that's all different.  I watch the clock.  Time cannot pass fast enough.  Hurry, Hurry, lets get to 2012 in an instant.  The sounds and activities of a mother's life should bring joy ...comfort.  I'm trying, reaching for all of that, but it is fleeting.  My energy is waning.  What is God asking of me now?  I want to sit and cry, ignore the pleas and needs of my children.  How outrageous.  That simply isn't right.  But how do I tend to my grief, my heavy sorrow ...and still provide warmth and love and even joy for them.  I beg God to shower me with grace, grant me the confidence, the desire even to take the next step forward.  Will it ever, really, feel okay again? 
Today the Traditional Latin Mass celebrated the Holy Name of Jesus.  I don't attend that Mass as much as I would like ...it defines reverence.  To just whisper His name ...Jesus.  Our homes should be fluent in His name and His teachings.  Knowing, believing that He truly knows.  The Mass is all about Him ...His presence, His kingship .. the place where I feel I can rest.  It is longer than a regular Mass and so it begs the patience of younger folk ...even older, at times.  When my youngest said she was ready to go, I shook my head.  "Oh, do you want to stay with Phoebe a little while longer?"  I nodded yes.  Just instinctively she knows it is where Phoebe is ...with all the angels and saints.  Later, our priest approached me and suggested I must find comfort in the communion of saints.  Again, I nodded yes.  I shared with him the entirety of my journey to Bethlehem, the gifts and blessings.  When I speak that story it can sound so contrived.  Yet, it was so purely orchestrated by God there can be no question. Father had nodded, smiled and said ..."isn't that so of God.  Don't question that gift, accept it in its fullness."  Yes, I will, I do.  So my question is this ...why does it not take away the pain.  See how greedy I am?  I not only want the gift, the treasure ...I want the relief as well.  But I think that is the key ...we don't get relief when we follow Christ, when we speak His name ...His Holy Name.  Relief only comes when we die and meet Him face to face.  But I play the tricks.  Okay, okay, I say, I place my wound in yours, dear Jesus ...as if it is a magic pill.  I beg, I plead, I promise ...just take it all away.  It's here to stay for a while ...and for a reason ... a pure reason ...a good reason.  I can't see that yet, but if I can say  okay, I accept this wound ...then maybe the strength to carry it with joy, peace, acceptance, obedience will come.  I am carrying it now, but with none of those virtues.  People comment how strong I am ...what choice is there here?  I am not strong ...I am barely standing.  I am hollow, empty, begging to be filled with something. I keep trusting ...it has become my way.  I think of what He has in store for me and my family.  If the opposite of this pain is equal ...it will be exquisite ...but knowing God, there is no word for  what He has in store.  I'm not suggesting I get a free pass to Heaven.  But if I can stay with Him, trust Him, lean into Him ... I believe the reward will be great in Heaven.  For now, that's enough to keep me going. 
Time ...its a funny thing ...especially for mothers, who feel we never have any.  Now, I have  waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much.  All these people racing around trying to maintain their youth ...searching for that fountain of youth.  I'm in the market for the fountain of aging.  I know that's not really fair to my other kids, but this is so much harder than I had ever imagined.  No one should have to suffer the loss of their child ... live with their absence.  It is horrible.  There is no other word for it ...and you cannot imagine it if you have not lived it.  Don't even try to ...that itself is painful.  Embrace the joy of each breath your child takes, each smile, sneeze and snide comment.  They are all part of the ladder toward Heaven.  Most especially, invoke His Holy Name ...often.  Dear Jesus, bless everyone who reads these words and draw them deeper into your love and mercy.  May they praise you forever!  And if you wouldn't mind, speed things up a bit down here!

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.