Let's Get Real with Grief

    Every year on this day I post something on Facebook about my first son Jace, something short and sweet like “this day nine years ago little Jace left us to be in a better place and we love him and miss him so much” etc. Well, this year I can’t do it. This year I’m tired of feeling like I always say or do the “right” thing when it comes to losing my son even when it isn’t what I’m really thinking or feeling. I’m tired of feeling fake. I’m tired of pretending. I think I’m just tired. The reality of it is that this day nine years ago was one of the worst days of my life. No, let’s be real. It WAS LITERALLY the WORST day of my life. This day nine years ago I watched in horror as my baby gasped for air, and as he struggled to take his last breath his body went limp in my arms and he was just…gone. Just like that. Gone. And with him died all the hopes and dreams I had built up for his future. With him died my dreams as his mother. With him died a little bit of my faith, a little bit of my heart, a little bit of my joy, and all of my idealism. For better or worse, I changed that day. I looked into the eyes of my husband and I was no longer the person he had married. Something had been taken from me and I would never get it back.

   Watching Jace die was the most terrible moment I’ve ever experienced, and it would be a lie to say that, nine years later, I’ve completely recovered. Anyone who has ever gone through something traumatic…the loss of a child or a loved one, the loss of a marriage through divorce, betrayal, abuse, neglect, etc. knows that when you go through something that devastating it changes you irreversibly…you never get over it completely, you never go back to being the “old you.” So there’s the reality of it all. When I think about Jace now it’s hard for me to even remember what he looked like. His memory is fading with the passing years, the sad reality of anyone who has lost someone they love. 

   Some days I still like to play “what ifs.” “What if” he had been healthy, “what if” I had a nine year old little boy running around the house, “what if” I had six little mouths to feed instead of five. I like to picture the family I “should have” had or life as it “should have” gone. But as my sweet husband always reminds these, playing “what ifs” only keeps me from enjoying the realities of the life I actually have. Of looking at the five sweet faces I’m supposed to be mama to here on earth and cherishing them. Of using the loss of my one son to give me the ability to be a MUCH better mom to the five remaining children I have here. Here’s the reality of it: I wasn’t supposed to raise Jace to be a man. I wasn’t supposed to see him running around with my other five kids. I wasn’t meant to mother him longer than the short three months he had here. God’s plan for my life is bigger than what I make of it…greater than what I have planned for it...and sweeter than what I could ever have dreamed for it. 

    As harsh as Jace’s death was and still is for me sometimes, I can’t help but notice that losing him woke me up. I woke up from a false reality. I woke up from my own dreamland. I woke up from a fantasy life I had built for myself. When I look in my children’s eyes I see Jace. When I kiss their sweet cheeks I feel Jace. When I have a terrible day and question being a mom, I remember Jace. “Would I take it all back?” I’ve had people ask me. The honest answer is, of course I would take it all back. Of course I wish Jace never died. Of course I wish he was still alive. Of course I wish the only tangible part of him I have left isn’t his gravestone. Of course! But I can’t take it back. I can’t change it. I can’t “unwish” it or “undo” it because this is real life. It can be horrible and amazing all at the same time because we go through things that hurt so terribly and then experience things that bring such joy. On a good day I can focus on all the beautiful blessings God has given me. And yes, I have really bad days where it’s hard to see past all the crud and the loss is too much for me to handle. Losing Jace keeps me humble…it reminds me of my humanity, of my brokenness, and of my need for Someone greater than I am to pull me out of my pit of despair, to give me hope, to give me life, to give me purpose.  

    Since losing Jace I feel like I’ve been in a constant fluctuating state of being mad at God and yet realizing my complete need for Him. I know He loves me despite my doubts, my fears, my anger, and my hurt. How do I know? How can I hold onto Him when He put me through hell and back losing my child? Because I look into five pairs of beautiful little eyes and I know. I look at my incredible, faithful husband and I know. I look at myself in the mirror and think back to who I once was and I know. “I know the plan I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for good and not for evil. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” That’s what my Lord has done for me. He has given me the promise of a future in the five beautiful children I have on earth and the hope of a heaven where I can once again see my little Jace, healed, whole, and happy before the face of a God who loves me and my little ones more than I could ever fathom.