Broken Smile

I have friends who lost both of their birth-children;  they also have three adopted children.  Their daughter died when she was young;  their son died as a teenager.

My friends, Charlie and Brenda Young, bought a couple of books for me written by a man who lost his mother, wife and daughter in a terrible car accident.

Like so many of you have said to us, I can't even imagine the pain these people must experience.

The hard thing about death is that the person is gone.  Sounds silly - doesn't it? We can't access them anymore.  No more phone calls.  No visits.  No more "Hi Maw!" or "Hi Pops!" .  No more visits to their house.  No more shared holidays.

The other hard thing is its permanence.  They're gone - and they're not coming back.  The situation is not going to change. You have a new normal that you didn't ask for and don't want.

I'm also noticing the uniqueness of each person's grief process.  Debbie and I are experiencing the loss of Travis in very different ways.  We decided Sunday that we each need someone else to talk with about our feelings. My thoughts are often painful for Debbie to hear.  We're processing our loss in very different ways.

I feel a sadness that began before Travis' death.  My mourning over leaving China is mingled with my grieving over losing Travis.  I can't sort it out.  My daily motivation is significantly damaged.  I have a hard time facing my daily obligations.

Debbie feels "broken".  It shows.  We took a selfie at Ohiopyle on our way home from Annapolis.  Her smile is not normal - it's...broken!  You can see the sadness in her eyes.  My heart aches for her;  I want to fix her so badly - but I can't!

All through the years I have stood with grieving families.  I lost my Mom when I was 29 and my Dad when I was 40.  I grieved their deaths deeply, but it's nothing like what I feel now.

When Debbie pre-reads these articles [which isn't very often], she always asks me what my purpose is.  I'm deliberating that now...

I think it's to remind all of us to be patient with someone who is in this grieving process.  Don't think you understand and don't tell them that you understand.  Just be a friend and give them time and space;  support them and pray for them - a lot!

Tonight, Deb told me that she didn't want to be with anyone.  She said she just wanted to go to bed and sleep.  I called a family member - since I'm in Kittanning - and asked her to go over and sit with Deb.  She was out-the-door almost before hanging up.

Monday morning Deb was all ready to go to school.  I couldn't figure out why she was just standing at the door.  I walked up to her to say good-bye;  she was sobbing quietly.  When I took her into my arms it turned to deeps wails and streams of tears!  I called her off and we went to walk at Pymatuning State Park where our family had camped many times over the years.  In the desolation of that campground we cried out our pain to a God who loves us and who understands what it is to lose a son.