As if loss is something that can be cured by a spoonful of syrup. It’s more like triage in the ER where the code blue light blinks at the most random moments in one’s life. As I dig through my medical bag of cures and bandages, I find there are some remedies that seem to be helping.
I have to say work has taken a lead these days. Not sure if it’s because this is a new role I’m in professionally, but I’m finding new meaning in my work specifically with the school year about to start. I’m looking forward to a building full of children to keep me on my toes.
It helps to have friends who won’t patronize me or not know what to say if I mention my mom and how much I miss her. They know me well enough to know that if I need the space, they will give it. Or if I need someone to make me laugh, they are more than happy to oblige.
I don’t love or hate God anymore than I did the day before my mom died. I don’t rail at Him at the unfairness of it all. He has given me a new set of lenses to look at the world around me. He’s the God of my mother. The one she trusted with her life until the very end. He sends encouragement through the Word, strangers, and just the oddest encounters. What else can I do but to trust in Him?
This medical bag of grief medicine keeps growing as I encounter new ways to move through this season. It’s barely been two months but it feels like a lifetime.