I don’t remember who said it, but I once heard that if anybody appears balanced, they are probably on their way from one side to another. I am not sure that I have stopped at “balanced” in the last eight months. I keep running the extremes; I want so much to be done with this process and yet I want to let myself feel it as I go.
I’ve decided that nobody should have to go through this. It is just a terrible experience. A friend has said that there is no bigger loss. I can’t speak to that, but I can said that I have never had a bigger loss nor can imagine anything that presents a risk for a bigger loss.
I am sure that I have commented about this before, but I just don’t understand how the mind processes such a loss. (I guess to say it that way presumes that my mind is representative of “the” mind.) I was at the hospital that night when the doctors told me that Christopher had died; I worked with the guy at the funeral home to make plans; I attended the visitation, ever so briefly seeing Christopher’s body is the casket; I greeted a lot of people who seemed to know that Christopher had died; I attended the memorial service as did many people, all of whom knew why we were there; I left a casket at the cemetery to be buried and now there is a marker with Christopher D. Hefren at that same spot. I know that he has died, but I am always kind of surprised when I think about the fact that I won’t see him again this side of heaven. I mean, there is a reasonable chance that I won’t see Christopher in the next 40 years!
Today was my first Sunday back at church since my trip (yes, I took last Sunday off). I generally do some scripture reading during the service. Pastor Joe and I just make eye contact to make sure that I’m ready to read that Sunday and we are good to go. (There were several Sunday’s in the past eight months where I could not be relied upon to be at church or I was in no condition to try to read during the service.) Today’s readings included the following:
Psalm 126:5-6 – Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying see to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him
John 16:20, 22 – I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. . . . Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will take away your joy.
I fully understand that this verse in John is Jesus talking about the fact that “in a little while” the disciples “will see me no more and then after a little while you will see me.” He is talking about the crucifixion and the resurrection. I know that Christopher isn’t Jesus and this isn’t the same thing. Having said that, God spoke to me through this passage.
I have wept (and will no doubt weep some more) and I do mourn while the world goes on around me. I do grieve but it will turn to joy as I am reunited with Christopher in heaven. Now is my time of grief, but I will see Christopher again and I will rejoice and at that point, no one can touch my joy.
I can’t wait to have untouchable joy – that is the kind of balance I long for.
No more pendulum swing.