A week ago today, the son of a neighbor in my old neighborhood (where my mom lives now) died after a 28 year fight against cystic fybrosis. He was a remarkable young man as I knew him. I have to confess that I have failed to really stay in touch after we moved, but I have been able to stay remotely connected through friends.

Thursday, I stopped by to see Mary as I was not going to be able to attend the memorial service that night. After the usual greetings (we had already talked earlier in the week), we sat down. The first thing I remember her saying was, “When will this feel real, Judy?” To which I responded, “I’ll let you know.”

I think that has been one of the more difficult aspects for me about Christopher’s death. Of course, the biggest challenge has been the deep, deep pain of missing him on a daily basis; I was really able to enjoy who he was and who I saw him becoming. After that, however, the challenge for me has been to understand and endure this process. I have always been very analytical and logic. What I have found so frustrating is that this horific grief process defies any logic at all.

Of course, I know that Christopher has left this world, but I still look at his pictures in utter and total disbelief. I know that he would want me to live life fully, not letting his passing have any negative effect. I know that God is good and that He loves me; He has more than proven that through Jesus. I know . . . I know . . . I know and yet, it doesn’t feel real. None of it feels real. That he is gone doesn’t feel real. That I can go one and live a fullfilled life doesn’t seem possible. That God loves me and that this is the best for me is simply unfathomable.

A friend told me that “words really don’t work, it is really all about the heart and mind.” The trouble is that this defies the logic of my mind and I have no clue of how to reach my heart except through my understanding.

I think I’m in trouble.