I do not have the greatest relationship with God.
Prayer has never been a natural thing for me. I have ALWAYS had difficulty leaning on or going to God, even when I was my most active in Mormonism. I have had some extremely bitter and hateful feelings against Him because of life circumstances.
Two incidents in my life caused me and my life such devastation that I have often thought that there should be two headstones with my name and date placed where they happened because the person I was before they happened died and never really came back.
One of these life-changing things is the death of my son.
It is easier to take out my anger about both of these on God then on people I love. Plus, I figure he’s big enough to take it.
But.
My anger towards God has started to soften since Aaron was born. It has been small and slow, but it is definitely there. It is hard being so bitter when such a gift has been given to you. It’s harder to hold on to anger when you have such a huge infusion of love and gratitude come into your life after so many years of darkness and pain.
I also have some dear loved ones who have a beautiful faith and seeing it has helped me. Their faith is something I love most about them and their example has seeped in…even though it seems that I am not paying attention.
It’s been needed around here lately.
Everything will be ok, but there have been some things going on that have actually taken me to my knees.
I had no where else to turn.
But.
I am not sure anyone heard me.
I am an extremely sentimental person and it manifests in various ways. One habit is that I will have whole conversations with people I’m thinking about. And another is when I am deeply moved or missing someone I love, I put my hand on the monitor and touch the image of their photograph to tell them I love them. I miss them. I cherish them. Or that I just want to eat them up! I love them so!! I do this to my big boys and little Aaron all the time and they are either just at school or napping in the next room.
I treasure tangible reminders of people I love. I hang onto them for dear life and when they are lost I deeply mourn. My greatest heartache is that we have so very few photos of Matthew. We were too poor to get monthly photos done or own any kind of camera and so I bought disposable ones. The quality on the ones we have are not great. In fact, the photos of the greatest quantity and quality of him are of his tiny body in a casket. We had family photos scheduled for the day we ended up burying him.
These things hurt me more then I can possibly begin to describe to you.
Today, I was going through a bunch of old CDs and checking their content and I gasped when I saw a photo on one of them.
A photo of my Little Bug.
A photo of my Little Bug that I had never seen before.
I don’t know if you can understand what a gift this is to me.
I haven’t seen his sweet face in 6 long years.
He is so beautiful.
My amazing, red-headed boy that I love to his sweet toes.
It did not fix my worry, regret or pain but it sent a surge of joy and thankfulness so big that I feel renewed strength and love surrounding me. Tears of joy streamed down my face and I gave thanks to God for giving me this moment. I have to think it was a gift from Him.
I put my hand up to my monitor and touched his sweet face and whispered, “I miss you.”.
I think that even though he is so very far away?
He heard me.
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God may not take away our burdens, but he will make us better able to bear them :)
I’m sure he heard you.
It’s hard to have faith when things like losing a beautiful baby is possible. How could G-D let that happen?
That is such a beautiful photo.
I saw a calendar of ladybugs today that made me think of you and your sweet little boy and I really wanted to buy it for you. Is that weird?
What a beautiful, beautiful boy. I’ve been reading for a while, your posts are compelling, beautiful and nightmarish all at once. I can’t even begin to imagine, and I would not compare my experience with yours, but when my husband and I were first married, I had an ectopic pregnancy. It was diagnosed pretty quickly, but I am a Catholic, and would not let them do the surgery until I had a second opinion. In the end, I ran around for three days, risking my own life, watching my HcG levels fall, only to have to have emergency surgery.
About a month afterward, I had an incredibly vivid dream. A boy with black hair, who looked an awful lot like my husband came to me and told me he was okay, and that he was with God, and would always watch over our family and pray for us.
A few years later, after a third miscarriage, I had another very vivid dream of him, and this time it was just the same boy, my son, but he was holding the hand of a smaller child and he bent down to scoop up a baby. He smiled at me as he cuddled the baby, and walked away. He was letting me know he was taking care of his baby siblings that we didn’t get to have.
As a Catholic, these instances are known to me as “consolations”. God’s way of offering some consolation when you so, so need it. I cherish each of these dreams, and close my eyes to relive them, so I will never forget them.
I am sure that your lady bugs, the photo, and the other things that will continue to come to you are the Lord’s comfort being sent to you. I am so glad you are getting them!
Because of you, I squeeze my Caleb a little tighter, and remember a little more often. Blessings to you, Megan
I’m glad that you found this and that you feel that he heard you. I feel like they do hear us. I’ve been taught that the spirit world is here among us – not all distant far away. That our loved ones whose spirits have simply left their bodies are here around us, cheering for us, and whispering words of strength and wisdom in our hearts every day…
This is a really wonderful, painfully wonderful albeit, post. Thanks.
Tears…. Just tears. I’m glad you had that moment. Such an awesome BIG moment. A connection with your sweet red-headed boy, now. He must be watching and protecting and guiding you and your family, easing all your worries, telling you it’s all (and that he’s) okay. ((hugs))
“My religion is kindness.” Dalai Lama
I’m sorry; I wish I had something else besides this lump in my throat and ache in my heart for you.
I was so glad to read this! I’ve read so many blogs where people are dealing with grief. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my daughter. But (and I don’t say this with arrogance) I REALLY don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t honestly believe I’d be reunited with her again. I don’t think I would make it if it weren’t for the Resurrection. I’m so glad you found that picture….I truly believe it was a literally a gift from God!
What a beautiful tender mercy from God. You are lucky to have such a wonderful friend in Kim!
It will be thirteen years this May that my first born child, a beautifully finished boy with lovely starry eyes that managed to be bright and dark at the same time died from an undiagnosed heart defect at 4 days of age.
He is Our Best Boy.
I say this because I once found a picture like you did. Not of Rhys. Not of Rhys, but of me in labor with Rhys, and the pregnant daughter of one of my closest friends who would develop pre-eclampsia three weeks later and deliver her son, Santiago early, visiting me.
Rhys was my first child. Santiago was to be Lupe’s first grandchild, and they were both due within months of each other.
To me…it is the only picture I have of them together.
Santiago Guadalupe ****** and Rhys MacCaskill Lachlan O**** will turn, and would have turned respectively thirteen this year.
Thank you. Your post and your picture reminded me of that feeling. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.
It doesn’t really ever get better…even knowing that in just under a month, Rhys’ little sister, Ripley Honor Elora ***** will turn ten.