Looking Back

As we approached Garren's first heavenly birthday, I thought about writing a very reflective post on all that we had learned in the first year without him. Well, I didn't ever stop and take the time to write down my thoughts as we approached, and then experienced the day. Jay and I did talk about our prior year a lot though. In November we received a very thoughtful booklet, simply called "On the Anniversary of Your Loss". It asked some very simple and thought-provoking questions. We talked through a few of them each night before we went to bed, looking back on the good, the lessons, the blessings, the gifts that we have received since Garren died.

We learned that we can trust God.

I think we knew this in our heads, but really experienced it in a whole new way and had to know it in our hearts. We can trust that He is always with us and sovereign over all. We wish that He had chosen a different path for us - one that allowed Garren to live here on earth with us. But we know that God wants good for His children and gives us good gifts. Garren is one of those good gifts. I don't know exactly how, but Garren being in heaven is also a good gift. Yes, there is (and always will be, I think) a sharp, deeply painful sting in the death of our son. But we know that this sting is not forever. There will come a day when death has no sting. We are so confident of heaven and living there for eternity because of Jesus' sacrifice. We know that that is where Garren is and where we will see him again.

We can trust God because He loves us. Oh how He loves us!

It's so easy to fall into the belief that God must not love us or care about us when bad, painful, horrible things happen. If I'm being honest, I have had feelings of entitlement toward God. In my selfishness, I have felt that God owed it to me to spare Garren's life - as if I had earned the gift of a child as a reward for any "good" that I have done. It doesn't work that way. God doesn't give gifts as rewards. He gives gifts because He loves us. And gifts that are here only for a short time or gifts that take a long time to come, or gifts that we want and never get don't mean that He doesn't love us. I know it's so cliché, and the words stung like salt in my wounded heart every time someone would remind me of it in the weeks after Garren died, but I know it's true: God loves us, even if we don't always feel it.

We know that it's okay to be angry with God.

Some people might disagree with me and say that being angry with God is not very reverent. There is such honesty in pouring out all your feelings to God. None of it is a surprise to Him anyway. He knows exactly how we feel, before we even put a name to our emotion. He wants us to have authentic relationships with Him and hiding feelings of anger or hurt or disappointment don't make for a very honest relationship. I've learned that it's especially in those moments, when I'm the most honest and broken before God that He answers me with comfort I never expected. He hasn't often taken away whatever made me feel hurt, but He provides the comfort and peace to know that He still loves me, even when I don't feel warm fuzzies.

We've learned that it takes so much energy to fake what you're feeling.

That goes right along with being authentic and honest before God. I am not often able to hide what I feel from people either. And I don't usually try to, because frankly, I don't have the energy. That being said, I have also learned to identify the times and the places that are safe for me to share my heart.

There's a heaviness in grief.

It's exhausting. In the early weeks and months after Garren died, everything felt so heavy. I felt heavy. I am an oncology nurse and work felt really heavy. I didn't want to bear anyone else's burden on any level. I didn't want to be depended on for anything really. Sadly, a few friends and I share the pain of losing children. Only walking alongside another mom who lost a child seemed to be a burden I could bear, maybe because we were leaning on each other.

Forgiveness is hard.

We received a thoughtful letter in the days after Garren died. The letter was from another mom whose son passed away several years ago. In her letter, she told us some of what we might expect in grieving Garren. She told us that sometimes people would say things that would sting. They might say things that were hurtful and seemingly unfeeling. She told us that people mean to say that they don't want us to hurt anymore, and sometimes that comes out so very wrong. She was right. Grief is a difficult thing to navigate for the one steering the ship. And it is so difficult to know exactly what to say or what to do with someone else's feelings. But in the midst of hearing some hurtful things - even knowing that people didn't mean to be hurtful - I felt angry and resentful at times. And forgiveness is hard. Plain and simple. But when I hold the perspective that they mean well (and remember that I'm shown grace, just the same when I fumble through words) it becomes a little easier.

We have wonderful, supportive people around us.

On the other side of the hurtful things we've felt, it has been humbling to feel such love from so many people over the last 16 months. We received cards from some dear friends every month for a year. People reminded us that they were still praying for us, even months after Garren's death. Just last week, a sweet woman at church shook my hand during the greeting time and with an understanding look, asked how I'm doing. I answered that I'm doing well and she patted my hand and said they still pray for us and think of us. Isn't that amazing? I love that people talk about Garren and ask me about him. I love that people remember him with us. We received so many cards on his birthday too. My co-workers even bought a special gift for me on his birthday. And we had a wonderful group of people with us singing 'Happy Birthday', eating cake and spending time at the cemetery that day. People have been so thoughtful. And we're so very grateful!

This post seems a little late, but I suppose there is always a time for reflection, right? We miss him. Oh my goodness, how we miss him! But in the midst of the missing, we're doing alright. I've even started answering that I'm doing "well". That doesn't mean I don't think of him every hour of every day. It doesn't mean that we don't have that deep, sinking feeling in our hearts or our guts when we miss him more than usual. It doesn't mean that we don't cry and wonder why God chose it to be this way. It just means that we've learned more about God, more about His gifts and more about ourselves. And that ultimately, eternally, all is well.

Lord, thank you for these things we've learned. Thanks for the comfort you've brought us. We are filled with an aching joy (if that's possible) when we think of Garren. We're so grateful for him. Please continue to open our eyes to the gifts you give us, even the difficult ones. Help us to be more and more grateful for You. Would you please tell Garren we love him? Thanks!
Love,
Andrea