Tuesday, July 1, 2008

The healing process.

By July 1, summers are usually in full swing. Heated mornings, a wardrobe of t-shirts & mosquito bites and evenings soaked in twilight and freeze-y pops. Sometimes watching others in the neighborhood enjoying this time brings me pangs of grief that alight on my heart like uninvited spiders in my home. Other families get to feel whole, never knowing the anguish of losing a small child. Sometimes, admittedly, I feel envious of their oblivious summer days.

Several people have said that the birth of a new child for Jordan & Lacie must help the family's healing process immensely, and it does--as a joyful, welcomed, sweet distraction. The newness and busy-ness of Kamdyn is therapeutic and gives us all a renewed sense of hope. Once again, Lacie & Jordan are gratefully consumed by diapers & feedings; it's incredible watching them work as such a caring team. They apply that same love & care to the foundation, too.

However, many assume that as time passes, the hurt hurts less. No such thing. The hurt, like a chameleon, simply blends into our bodies, our behaviors, our speech, our schedules. The hurt dons disguises, takes other forms and becomes the tried & true companion that nobody really wants.

And the only thing time gives to soothe grief and sadness is a returned degree of composure. You slowly regain the ability to stand upright though you'd rather double over in a crumpled pile on the floor. The pain is still fiery below the surface, twisting and punching to get out, but your head is able to nod in a conversation or your eyes are able to hold back the tsunami of tears for when you're alone.

[big sigh]

Ultimately, though, the end thought that returns as each calendar day passes is that we just keep taking Kyrie with us. We keep taking all the children who have suffered with this unfair disease with us into tomorrow. Then one day, tomorrow will hold a cure.


motherof2 said...

As I read this, I am sitting here consumed with thoughts and which ones will help to speak and which ones won't. The truth is, (and I hate saying this, because it means there is nothing I can do about it) I think of you often when I am about to experience something joyous. I think to myself that you won't have a happy memory that isn't totally complete and without the words, "if only." I am no dummy and I can't be in denial of your pain. Each potentially happy moment is coupled with that nagging thought. I don't know why I say this, but I think I just want you to know that I respect and acknowledge your loss. It doesn't matter what time has past..it is a new routine, but your heart is the same. I'd love to close this thought with a popular cliche that offers some type of hope, but not today. I'll just hang my head with you and continue to walk this path you so that you do not feel alone. Know that you are loved.

ksfaith said...

I also think about you guys and how you experience the "if only" moments. My heart still breaks with you. My friend who lost her son 10 years ago says the pain or hurt doesn't lessen, you just learn to pick yourself up quicker/better. I'm praying stubbornly for you all.

Jenni Halley said...

So very true, I believe that time does not heal the immense pain of losing someone you love. Time does bring about a different way of dealing with things, a different approach. I believe there are some things in life, such as losing a child or a spouse, that one can never truly heal from. We can all only hope to bring about God's goodness in all that we do, especially in honor of our loved one, so that as time does pass, the pain is softened by the blessing of having that person in our lives, even if the time was too short. Congrats on the continued success of the foundation in honoring Kyrie. And enjoy each moment with Kamdyn.
Jenni Halley