From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

Some days my instincts override the logic of my brain and I find myself unwillingly overwhelmed with emotions. My heart hurts.  Last week I drove by a motorcyclist who wore a protective jacket similar to John's and, before I could steel my heart against it, memories flooded into my mind. Days when I waved him off to work or off to an elder's meeting, hours we rode together on his bike, stickers we put on our helmets, the day I finally agreed to let him get a motorcycle. John had an elder's meeting the morning he was killed. That's why he rode his bike, because it was one of the few times he could on a usual basis, and he loved it so much. I had skipped church because I had a broken heart. Our first IUI treatment cycle had failed, and my heart hurt. I didn't want to have to face everyone yet, I didn't want to have to break the news to everyone yet. So, I stayed home, in a completely and terribly mundane way.  We talked right before he got on his bike to head home...

There is an absence that never ceases. You feel it at every gathering, every time the “whole family” is together.  There is a fierce desire to have your baby remembered. And to have your struggle acknowledged.  I’m going to preface this by saying that it is no ones responsibility to remember my child, nor acknowledge my struggles. But you must understand that regardless of that, things still hurt, even if it’s no one’s fault.  People have all sorts of different ways of remembering Kimber. Some people remember him the way I do. Some people remember him less. And some people don’t remember him at all.  Today, I’m in the stage of letting go of the strong desire to remind people to remember Kimber.   I was in a protective state for a long time.  I brought him up when people forgot him. I brought his picture when I thought there was going to be pictures of the whole family. I included him in the number of grandchildren in our family. I did...

I have loved watching the journey of bereavement unfold in my life. Four years ago I would never have thought that I would be where I am now but I am so so thankful for the adventures that have brought me here. I'm thankful for a loving Father who has spoken the words of scripture into my heart and has redeemed the greatest pain in my life and created in it my greatest calling.  "All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as yo...