Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Another goodbye, but of a different kind.

The posts on this page are few and far between now.  It isn't for lack of words or lack of thought.  It's a part of bereavement so heavy, even the veteran bereaved don't mention it.  It's a weight we'll likely carry til our own passing of this life.

At some point, which is different for everyone, the shock wears off.  It sounds like a good thing, but it isn't.  The shock is protecting us from the grim reality that this. is. forever.  Never will we have even a single photograph of all of our children together.  Never will we see a child at each stocking hung at Christmas.  Never will the question "how many children do you have?" not send a lump into our throats.  Never. Never. Never.

When the shock wears off and we realize these nevers, there's a heavy burden that our heart carries.  Yes, it scars over and we have our new normal but never (there's that word again) does it not ache.

It seems too much to mention that to newly bereaved.  They'll all know it eventually anyway.

When other sad things on earth happen, I can go to my grief.  We're well acquainted now and it's almost a comfort.  I know what I'm doing there.  So when my heart is called by worldly sadness, I can go to my grief of missing a child and know that what is weighing on my heart and mind isn't all that bad.


I grew up in a lovely house in an apple orchard on the top of a hill in southern Indiana.  My parents built the house a few years before I was born.  The house sits on property my family has owned for generations and 120 years.  Also on that property is the family home.  It was purchased by my great great grandparents and passed down through the generations.  My aunt lives in it now but that time is passing.  The house will likely be leaving the family in the very near future.

It's a day in my life I never thought I'd see.  It's going to be/already is a hard goodbye.

It was a place that, throughout my childhood, housed many different members of my family in different stages of their lives, through happiness and heartbreak, through struggles and comfort.  Through generations and passings, it has been the heart of our family.

It was the meeting place for many, many family reunions, Thanksgivings, Easters, and Christmases.

I have known harder goodbyes in my life, of course.  The unexpected are always the hardest.

1 comment:

  1. That is a sad time Aly--thanks for sharing. I can remember as a teenager when my grandparents home had to be sold after their deaths. There were so many memories there--some years when money was tight, my grandparents' house was our vacation and the highlight of the summer.

    Even as an adult, I still miss that place--knowing that the good times there were an important part of my development.