Category Archives: Grieving

Today is the second year since we lost our son Joshua at 8 mos old.

If he were still alive he’d be 2 1/2 years old. He and J3 (4) would either be the best of friends or the biggest rivals – and that would probably alternate.

If he were still alive I’d still be changing diapers.

If he were still alive DH might still be working at the university.

If he were still alive I wouldn’t have this lost feeling.

But he’s not. Two years…and I still have to remind myself that he’s not coming back. Two years…and I still can’t allow myself to look at the pain for very long. Two years…and I still wish I could turn back time and done something….anything right and still have him here with us.

In preparation to rereading “A Grief Observed” by C.S. Lewis I found I had underlined some passages that are still too good not to share:

“This is one of the things I’m afraid of. The agonies, the mad midnight moments, must, in the course of nature, die away. But what will follow?”
When did I quit crying myself to sleep at night? When did I begin to accept that he was not returning…that he could NOT return to me….that this was REALITY? Those ‘mad midnight moments’ did die away….and what followed was an acceptance of sorts.

“I had been warned-I had warned myself-not to reckon on wordly hapiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the programme. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accepted it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination.”

“You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.”

“Aren’t all these notes the senseless writhings of a man who won’t accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it?” I was so glad I read this as it gave me freedom to live my grief. I have not hid from it, but have tried to experience every moment of it….because I believe the only true way to acceptance is to have not denied it. I hope that makes sense.

Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then have I reason to be fond of grief.

ATTRIBUTION: William Shakespeare (1564–1616), British dramatist, poet. Constance, in King John, act 3, sc. 4, l. 93-5 (1623).

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

ATTRIBUTION: C.S. (Clive Staples) Lewis (1898–1963), British author. A Grief Observed (1961). A great book!

She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.

ATTRIBUTION: George Eliot [Mary Ann (or Marian) Evans] (1819–1880), British novelist, editor. Middlemarch, bk. 8, ch. 80 (1871).

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how;
Everything is happy now,
Everything is upward striving;

ATTRIBUTION: J1 Russell Lowell (1819–1891), U.S. poet. The Vision of Sir Launfal (l. 73–81). .

Tonight we went to my SIL’s for my nephew’s 13 bday. As we left each of the boys was given a balloon filled with helium. J2 (8) was running around and didn’t realize his balloon became untied. It was quickly too high for anyone to reach. Someone told J2 – “You shared your balloon with Josh.” (meaning the balloon was headed to heaven). J2 was not consoled by this thought. J3 (4), ever the peacemaker said “Maybe Josh will send it back.” Oh, were it just that easy!

We gave a quick lesson about heaven – but as it is so hard for us to understand….I’m sure they don’t really understand. I know J3 firmly believes that Josh is playing with a balloon with Jesus….and maybe he is. 🙂