Rolling in

Four days from now we'll have lived ten months without Phoebe. The anxiety rises up and at first we don't know where it comes from, but then we do. Early on they told us we would be in shock for a year, and then the fog would lift. They told us, there would be a new pain, and it would be hard. I believed they were wrong ...wanted to anyway. but now I see they were right. There are times now when I stop, stunned at the thought of her gone. I see breaks in the fog, cracks that give me a moments view, a moments experience of this new pain.
Like a child, I feel my eyes looking up and grabbing hold of God's hand, eyes pleading to make it not real, to make it go away, be different ...happy. But, I see him in my mind and He assures me it is all real, but it will be okay. Childlike is the only way I can be right now, i simply trust because He asked me to. Big questions with long answers get asked. Deep thoughts are analyzed, intellectualized ...I can't go there. My faith has become simple and small. My faith is my own ...my beads and the sacraments. I can't even claim right now that I understand even those things ...I just know I am holding on tight and trusting.
We live in an area of complete chaos in our diocese. Much of what comes out of it is a complete assault on the true faith, and sadly is leading many, many souls away from the Truth. I used to care more about that, now I just turn away in disgust, but mostly sadness, and cling to what is true, authentic, timeless ...my beads and the sacraments.
I work and pray my way through every patients room. I think of them, the end not far off. I envy them sometimes. How much longer I think ...how long can a person endure the loss. I know God will provide me the grace necessary to sustain myself for as long as He wants me to.
Its this wave of dread that approaches near each marking, each passing date that reminds me of what ...of who, I've lost.
I see someone today I haven't seen in years. "Are you ...?" I ask. Yes, he says. I tell him my name. He looks down and comes close, hugs me. It is not even him that I knew well, but his wife. For years we spent summers poolside, our little ones in tow. My Olivia and her son, swam and played as a unit ...they left there swimming lessons together, wordless, grabbed towels and sat, teeth chattering ...and then moved on. We watched them, others did too, Phoebe always loved watching them. Hannah would trail them, a little behind. I called them the Baldwin sisters, and her son, Ashley Longworth from the TV show, The Waltons. He stands there now, a young man, looking down at me. We talk, his wife took it hard, he tells me. Makes no sense he says ...how parents who give it there all suffer, while others who seemingly ignore there own kids have great success...whats the deal? I have no answers ...my daughters dead ...I'm out of the race. Smart kids, attentive parents ...how? Still, I have no answers. I think of all the people around me and how their kids just march along, graduate, go off to school, have plans, accomplish goals ...good things. There just not part of my life ...anymore. Maybe some of my kids will go along that route ...but I don't bank on that anymore. I pray my kids make it to Heaven, die in a state of grace. I pray my kids live past 17 ...little goals, insignificant from a world view. Try that on ...a goal of having your kids live past seventeen ...pretty humbling. I have one who's 21, but five more yet to reach that age ...that's my goal.
I part from this friend from the past, aware of the pain he feels. He hasn't seen Phoebe since she was about eight ...and he is torn. Yes, I am reminded of my loss ...my deep, deep loss.
The work of grief ...the loneliness of grief ...it is a sad, sad thing. I guess to work through the pain, the sadness ...and to feel so very alone, is in fact what draws me closer to God and makes my desire to know him, love him and serve him even greater. May I be a good and humble servant ...and tonight may all the parents whose hearts shattered when their child died rest with peace and love and a confidence that He is always there.

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