by Brigitte. I like to read and write about Christian faith and a variety of subjects. I live in Canada.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
This little thing says: "Memories are precious. Let us not be robbed of what God has already given us." I saved this picture from somebody's kitchen window flip-over thing, because I thought it might inspire me to get all my memories sorted out, put together a book or something.
I can't say I'm there. I have not been through my pictures, except for saving the most recent ones from the computer. I have not been through the family videos. I have not been through my scrapbooks.
If I'm going to dig around in the memories, I will cry and then I will have a headache and then I will need an Advil and have to go lie down and the day is shot and I might get a cold. So, I don't go looking for it. There is enough that intrudes itself.
What hits me the most these days are the flannel padded work shirts at Costco, when I'm there. I always touch them.
It is easier and it is not easier. People ask this: "Is it easier?" Yes, you don't have to think about it and talk about it all the time anymore, but your child is still gone and will be gone. How can that get easier?
Recently, somebody stopped Martin and me on the street--a complete stranger--to ask us how it is that we have been "coping so well", while her family is falling apart. Apparently, our "good coping" is legendary. We have to give the credit to God's word and the rest to the kind people. When you trust, you can have joy. And there has been plenty of joy with the grief. It is like your soul develops a larger capacity for both.