The Weight of Bad Days

After a succession of quite a few good days, I've been caught by surprise by a series of bad ones.  I know grief is an unpredictable beast, and the sadness creeps up unexpectedly sometimes, but knowing that didn't seem to make me any less surprised when yesterday was just a down right bad, hard day.  I cried and cried and cried.  I couldn't stop.  And today I feel constantly on the brink of tears.  The weight of grief has come crashing back down on me, and I feel almost crushed underneath it.  I know this is "normal," but can I just say it sucks?  I miss Samuel so, so very much.  I don't like looking ahead and seeing an interminable barren land of life without Samuel.

As much as I trust God and know He is good (and I do!), I wish I had Samuel.  I wish He had written my story differently.  I wish He had swooped in and saved the day and healed my sweet son.  I wish I could have brought Samuel home with us and put him in his crib and woken up multiple times a night to feed and soothe him.  Instead of sitting at the lunch table typing this entry while waiting for my pokey Joel to finish his lunch so we can go pick up his big brother from preschool, I wish that I was frazzled from trying to get Joel his lunch and also feed Samuel while trying to get a few bites in for myself as well.  I wish I knew what it was like to have 3 boys in the same house, trying to be the mom that they each need.

Instead of the harriedness of having three sons 4 and under, I have to watch the three people I care for most in the world wrestle with their grief.  Not only do I have my own pain to face, I have three very dear, precious souls hurting around me too.  I never thought about how hard it would be to watch Bryan in so much pain much less Caleb and Joel, who continue to struggle with the death of their baby brother.  Joel still doesn't understand that Samuel is never coming home, and Caleb continues to burst into tears out of nowhere, saying, "I miss Samuel!"  It is heartbreaking to watch my husband and sons hurting.  And my heart was already broken before witnessing their suffering.

Because of my surgery, I am not allowed to pick up Caleb and Joel for several weeks.  Since I can't lift Joel, we have been forced to move him out of his crib and into the big bed in his room.  I wasn't prepared for this, and it's been surprisingly sad for me.  Yesterday morning when I went to get Joel up, I looked at his empty crib, and it hit me: we have two cribs in this house and no children sleeping in them.  This was devastating to me.  As Joel hits new milestones marking his growth and graduation into "big boy" status, Samuel's absence becomes more and more noticeable and real to me.  I miss him in new ways.

I woke up this morning reminded yet again of how dependent on God I am.  I really can't do this on my own.  It's disappointing how that lesson had already faded after a few good, manageable days.  I am sad that I haven't been able to better hold onto what He has taught me.  I need Jesus.  Desperately.  And that's always been true, but in my brokenness and sorrow, it's just more tangible to me.  I am grateful that yesterday and today have resurfaced my deep awareness of this truth, but I am hoping I can hold on to this truth even in the good days...'cause I can't do a lifetime of these bad days.  Help me, Lord!