I've said a lot of new things the past 44 days. Each time I form one of these new sentences the wind escapes my lungs, my heart freezes, and my eyes fill up with tears. This has easily been the hardest 44 days I've ever experienced.
I've tried to look up tips on grieving- wondering what the pro's say about the process and a way to walk through this quickly and efficiently. I've asked for advice and even received some unsolicited suggestions by well-meaning, yet ill-informed, people.
I've come to the conclusion that this process is going to have to be walked out with me and Jesus (and my husband. He has been incredible... He has held my heart-and me- at times when everything gets too heavy. Not forgetting my pastors, as well, who have answered every text and prayed with me when I needed it.). Jesus is the one I find comfort in all while battling some swings of anger towards Him. That's not super spiritual but it's honest and fronting hasn't done me much good.
This 1 month and 12 days have brought mornings of tears and sleepless nights of wishing the nightmare would end. Coming to grips with the loss of Moriah, I'm concluding, is not a fast process. No matter how much I (and others) wish it would be. But that's okay. Not because grief and mourning is convenient, not because it's the easiest route, not even because it gives me an excuse to have pajama days filled with movies and not eating. It's okay because Moriah mattered to my life. She was one of the most important people in my world, and she isn't in it anymore. (There goes one of those new sentences again.)
This past weekend was my first weekend home since the funeral. It included some great quality time with my family, but mostly I just felt the incredible absence. This weekend made reality real. I couldn't paint a picture of her being with friends... she was gone. You could feel it everywhere. On the way home I stopped and visited where her body rests (I'm still not ready to call it by it's actual word yet...) and I just cried. This is my new real life. I've kept crying. I'm still crying.
My process, I think, is just starting. There isn't a lot of people who can relate to a tragic, sudden death of a 17 year old sibling. Especially not with the circumstances of family dynamics being the way they were when it happened. What I'm trying to say is most people don't get it. There is no manual on this. There is no talking me (or her family) through the death of their own loved one and comparing it to this. Their loss isn't insignificant by any means... It's just different. This loss is different. Every person in our family that I've talked to has acknowledged that, now I'm trying to figure out what to do with that. How to come to terms with everything that has happened.
I'm grateful for the people who have tried to help... Your kindness and words of encouragement have meant so much to me. I think what I'm saying is our family is still hurting, we still need prayers, and we still need patience in our process. And that is okay.
For myself, let me cry. Let me miss her. Don't make me feel like it needs to be rushed. My heart is still crushed and I'm working on letting it heal. I'm working on figuring out how to do that.
44 days of new sentences have passed. I'm sure there is more, more to this new reality that I haven't thought of yet. If you are one of the people that have been a part of the conversations that have gotten a little awkward, thanks for being cool about it. If you are one of the ones who find yourself watching me drift of into thought with tears in my eyes in the future, sorry in advance. The hurt is still fresh and, well, I just miss her.