Chose LIFE!

   It's been 5 years since Emily died.  Recently, a young mother who had to say goodbye to her newborn, asked me how I survived, how did I make it through.

      Initially, there was so much help and so much support,  it felt like I was in a bad dream that I would soon wake from.  People told me "You're so strong"and "You're doing so well".   I thought that about myself, too, and was smug in how well I was coping.  Counseling? No way, I was fine. Until about 3 months after the funeral.  One morning, I woke up and the numbness had worn off.  I thought I would die.  The feelings were overwhelming.  But by then, my friends were back to their own lives, and although they would have been willing to help, to listen, I had always been the care-taker, so I continued in that role; I comforted the people who came to comfort me. 

   There were two of me.  The real me sank alone into my own little pity party, after all, I was Emily's mother, and no one else could feel the way I did. I even excluded my family.  "Grief" swallowed me up.   The other me was a faker.   I put on the happy face and went to work, to church, to the grocery store.  I acted like I was fine. The other me kept "Grief" in a box, the lid tightly closed.  The problem, though, was "Grief". He wouldn't stay in the box.   One day, I'd cope well, then, the next day, I'd be in the pits again.  I felt like I was bouncing.   

    Then I got angry.  Like PMS and hypoglycemia and no sleep for 2 days kind of angry. That kind of irritability that simmered under the surface and erupted when I least wanted it to. There's nothing right in the world when a woman gets that kind of angry.  I remember getting pissed at a lady in the grocery store when she took 5 seconds too long to decide on what kind of green beans she wanted - "just pick a can and get out of my way" (I didn't say that outloud, but I sure wanted to).   

   Finally, I went to grief group.  The first day, I did nothing but cry. But that was the beginning.  At group, I felt free to open that box and come face to face with "Grief".  I learned some important lessons. 

• Guilt and Regret feel very much the same, but are two very different things. Regret says "I wish I had..." or "I wish I hadn't..."   Guilt implies the need for punishment, and if no one else punishes you, you will punish yourself.   You will beome self destructive - over eat, over drink, over drug, not allow yourself to be happy again....   Both Guilt and Regret  require self forgiveness.  (This lesson set me free.) 
• Grief is part of who I am. He will always be there to affect every part of my life.  But the choice is mine about how much  influence he has.  
• It’s possible to get stuck in grief, for grief to become my identity.   

    I turned my anger on "Grief".  He had stolen my daughter, and he was threatening to steal my life as well.   I turned to the Word.    I call heaven and earth as witness this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live. Deuteronomy 30:19. 

   I chose Life. And everyday I choose Life. 
  
   Oh, it's still not easy. "Grief" comes as expected at Christmas, at Emily's birthday and her death day and each spring when the daffodils bloom.  Sometimes I get ambushed by "Grief" when I hear a certain song on the radio, or when her best friend sends a message on FB saying "I love Emily".  Some days, I wake up to find "Grief" sitting on my chest, making it difficult to breathe, much less to get out of bed and function.  But as time goes by, it gets easier.  I've learned to open the box myself when it's safe, instead of letting the pressure build to explode at inappropriate times.  I refuse to wear the signs that identify me as a griever.  I am a survivor and I behave that way.
   I hang on the belief that this life is only a stepping stone to my eternal life. Every day that I open my eyes on this earth, is just one day closer to when I cross over and be with Emily again.