Standing in my closet, frozen in a fog- like existence.
Time seems to have stopped ,but is still going. I have to dress. I cant focus ………I grab a black skirt and a teal sweater, remembering those bright outfits I would wear to see her in the hospital, to cheer her.
How did I get here?…. I thought God said” This illness would not end in death”, I feel lost and alone. I have to get ready. I am late…. I have to go.
Today is my first born daughter’s memorial service, she was just 29.
It is hard, when you can’t see the tomorrows Jesus is holding for you, or the grace that will come. It is overwhelming to think, that for his purposes, this will be used for good and to mold us. I didn’t sign up for this….. but I have to get up every day and keep living. A feat that seems unbearable.
I got dressed , I did not brush my hair or my teeth, nothing mattered. I got there, and watched, so many friends , hundreds. I felt a sense of joy seeping into my devastated heart, seeing how many lives my daughter had touched.
Then a testimonial of her hard work with a preemie little boy and how well he was doing because of her faithfulness and desire to help him catch up. I see grace.
How could God think this was a good ending though? I am so broken. My only work for many months has been her care. Now what? Such a big hole to fill. Transitions from one season to the next are always hard, but harder when a loved one is not coming with you into the next one. I look up and say, seriously God, now I have to keep her cat?
The memorial service is over, a long line forms to speak to me. God gives me words of encouragement for each one,they also are grieving . I speak and they respond. I am grateful for each of them. My precious Jesse is in each of their hearts forever. I see grace.
The flowers , clean up time and another group wanting to meet at a get together. I am spent. I just want to go to sleep and not wake up for a few months.
Finally, I am alone. I can ask God to help me , and he does. You see.. he raised Lazarus from the dead after his illness, he later died. Jesus also died, but in 3 days rose again.My daughter is not dead, she lives as Christ lives , with him in paradise.She believed Jesus was the son of God and hung on the cross for her sins. She believed he triumphed over death. She believed ,because of Jesus, she would live eternally with all those who believe. She is no longer sick or in pain. I see grace.
My son wrote a poem when my granddaughter died two years previously. Here is the beginning, “We say rest in peace as we refer to the deceased, but he said” it is us who need to live in peace now”. How it ministers to me that poem, ….only now I understand how she felt, her baby girl leaving to Jesus before her.She said ” Mom, see God’s plan, though I am so sad to leave behind my two kids, I am going to see Faith, the child I have had the least amount of time with. She said” Mom it makes it a little easier for me” I see grace.
I still have to stay here and miss her. My closet scares me, every outfit attached to a memory of her.
I am so so sad for her siblings, and children, and nephew. They too, are so broken. In my present state, I am of no help to them.
I am grateful for Jessica’s boss, Amy. Another Sister from another Mister, who posted an amazing tribute of my daughter on Facebook. A blessing at a time when we needed it most. I see more grace.
I see grace, Marsha, one of my Sisters from another Mister, so amazing. My cell phone bill, she changed my plan to unlimited to be able to stay on hold for doctors. She was faithful to pay the bill each month for me. We met in a small group, she now lives states away, but a Sister from another Mister for life. She updated people with weekly emails about Jessica.She flew down to help me clean up, before the kids came to work on pictures for the service.I see more grace.
Another one, Gina a nurse, always there to answer my medical questions, and maneuver the system of health care for my daughter. She too had “That day” she said goodbye to her 22 year old daughter, now someone that totally understands this road I am on, my Sister from another Mister.
Then there was Marion, my Sister from another Mister for years. She would run to the pharmacy and meet me at the chemo place for a quick prayer and a hug. If I needed anything she was there, even a few hours off .She became someone I could trust to sit with my daughter, so I could leave for a break. I see grace.
So many more sisters would come to pray, There was that one young student, now a CPA and married, yet dearest Malerie, just kept coming, she was a ray of sunshine in that hospice room. I see grace, amazing grace.
There was Cheryl, who would send money and cards and gifts and always checking in on us.These items always arrived at the most perfect times. Her love she expressed thru these gifts was always such an encouragement to the entire family.We had been sisters for what seems like a lifetime, then while at the hospital with my daughter, I get the call, a sister from Cheryl’s church, an accident, and later the news her son Caleb, just 18 months old is with Jesus. There were no words to speak” That day.”Because of Jesus , it is well with her soul.
I wanted to be by her side, but I could not leave my daughter, she truly understood. My Sister from another Mister, we are walking the grief journey together, it is so much better than alone, I see grace.
Its 7 years later ,I have finally gotten thru the memories hanging in my closet and dealt with them one by one, but now, with even more Sisters from another Mister…. who get me, all of them, gifts from God to me. I cant imagine getting here without their help. I see grace.
Today I am okay. I am in a sisterhood that is amazing. I am changed forever by my life experience. I like better… who I am now. Pain brings you to a place where you can change and grow in a way that makes you more valuable to your sisters.
I see grace.
This is just a part of our story, me and My sisters from another Mister.
My siblings are still alive, I still can’t understand what my children are going thru, I bet some of my sisters know though.
This is a song my son wrote and sang about his big sister in Heaven.
7 thoughts on ““That Day””
Gwenn thank you for sharing this with us . I know your words will touch so many who need to hear them . I’m so honored to call you sister. 😍
I can so relate to this post, as you can imagine. “My closet scares me, every outfit attached to a memory of her”
…for me it was the places I went with Caleb and his toys and things.
“Its 7 years later I have finally gotten thru the memories hanging in my closet and dealt with them one by one”
…I can remember going to each place for the first time after he died that we had gone together and dealing with the grief each time until I had covered every place.
What a beautiful song in honor of Jessica from Sky.
I think this post is painfully beautiful. I love you, my friend ❤
Painfully beautiful. It’s how I feel when I think about Jesus and what he did on the cross. Love you more..
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Yes sometimes life here is bittersweet but there will come a day when will be no more tears no more sorrow no more suffering. God is the anchor of our souls Our Hope in Jesus.
My dear, precious sister from another mister, my sister princess, i am so very proud of you and honored to be connected to you in such a personal, intimate, unable to separate way. Wow, this post, this completely transparent confession, testimony of your soul has reached deeply into my mind and heart, my spirit, my soul, my memories of my “that day”. Thank you for reminding me to see all the grace our Abba poured out leading up to that day i stood in my closet and the days, months, now years that have followed and all the grace He continues to pour as He ministers to me and my sisters from another mister. Thank You Abba, thank you sis. i love you princess
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Reblogged this on Sisters from another Mister.
Some memories are difficult. Some memories are beautiful. Eventually He does turn our mourning into dancing as He draws us closer to Him and causes us to see the big picture when we will all be together again with our loved ones. Loved your description of how you walked / dressed through grief. Sisters forever and princesses of our King.
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