Friday, December 16, 2011
And to Imagine That God Gave His Son Willingly 2-1-11
And to imagine that God gave his son willingly. I've come to think God thought the birth of Jesus more tragic than His death for in death He came home. And home is where my sweet baby is today. Although my heart longs for him desperately, I would not truly wish him out of the arms of Jesus and back into this world of sin. "But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." 2 Samuel 12:23 David speaking here has rejoined now with his precious son and one day we will rejoin with Jeffrey as well if we keep our faith in the Lord.
Resentment 2-5-11
I've heard a lot about people who get mad at their loved one who died, for leaving them behind. I can't imagine being angry at Jeffrey though. He was too young to have ever done anything worthy of anger...
I've had an awful day. I can't put my finger on what triggered it. Maybe going to town. Maybe coming home. But I found myself with so much pent up emotion and missing Jeffrey in an overwhelming way. So, I decided to watch the videos I have which allow me to both see him and have a good cry. It helped in a way. Then, I just needed to busy myself...to brood. So, I decided to go through all my pictures and sort them according to what albums they would eventually go in. So, I got something accomplished, but now I have just turned angry. The resentment I have is not for the one who died, but for the ones that are left. What makes everyone else so special? Why do they bother me with trivial things? Why do they think I care? Then I get more angry at myself for feeling that way. What kind of person does that make me? What kind of mother does that make me? Not a good one. Me, Sara Freitag, once self-described as a wife and a mother and couldn't be happier, now with anger and resentment towards my own kids. I am a completely broken and worthless as a person. I just don't know what causes this. And, I don't know how to fix it. And not just them, but the whole world. How can it possibly keep spinning. It surely has a limp now...after something so precious has left it. How could it not? I know I sure do!
That all being vented, now I can say it is on most days that these same people and trivial things that get me through the day. It's only on my bad days that there is no sense to be made of the world. A tragedy so irrational apparently reaps irrational feelings. I just feel I don't even know which way is up.
I've had an awful day. I can't put my finger on what triggered it. Maybe going to town. Maybe coming home. But I found myself with so much pent up emotion and missing Jeffrey in an overwhelming way. So, I decided to watch the videos I have which allow me to both see him and have a good cry. It helped in a way. Then, I just needed to busy myself...to brood. So, I decided to go through all my pictures and sort them according to what albums they would eventually go in. So, I got something accomplished, but now I have just turned angry. The resentment I have is not for the one who died, but for the ones that are left. What makes everyone else so special? Why do they bother me with trivial things? Why do they think I care? Then I get more angry at myself for feeling that way. What kind of person does that make me? What kind of mother does that make me? Not a good one. Me, Sara Freitag, once self-described as a wife and a mother and couldn't be happier, now with anger and resentment towards my own kids. I am a completely broken and worthless as a person. I just don't know what causes this. And, I don't know how to fix it. And not just them, but the whole world. How can it possibly keep spinning. It surely has a limp now...after something so precious has left it. How could it not? I know I sure do!
That all being vented, now I can say it is on most days that these same people and trivial things that get me through the day. It's only on my bad days that there is no sense to be made of the world. A tragedy so irrational apparently reaps irrational feelings. I just feel I don't even know which way is up.
How are you? 2-17-11
So, how are you?
Well, I avoided that question on purpose, but if you really want to know, not so good. I feel like all the chemical reactions that kinda shelter you from the initial blow of losing a child have worn off and now I am just stuck here trying to figure out what to do with the reality that is my life and trying to fight off depression. I know he is in a better place, I know Gods plans for me are better than ones I could write myself, I know I have three other beautiful children, but none of that seems to make this intense sadness go away. My emotions are pretty much sad, mad, or insane and I have to try to function like a normal person every day. How are you? : )
How many kids do you have?
Well, that depends. Do you want to know how many children live with me? Do you want to know how many living children I have? Or do you want to know how many times I have been pregnant and where all those kids are now? I thought I had that question all figured out, but it still causes intense panic every time. I wish I could just wear a sign that either said "Don't ask me how many kids I have!" or "My son just died, how do you think I am?" Maybe I should just make up t-shirts that say "I'm not crazy, just grieving." I'm thinking they would go over well. Maybe I could market them through the funeral homes. : ) Ahhh, I feel better now!
Well, I avoided that question on purpose, but if you really want to know, not so good. I feel like all the chemical reactions that kinda shelter you from the initial blow of losing a child have worn off and now I am just stuck here trying to figure out what to do with the reality that is my life and trying to fight off depression. I know he is in a better place, I know Gods plans for me are better than ones I could write myself, I know I have three other beautiful children, but none of that seems to make this intense sadness go away. My emotions are pretty much sad, mad, or insane and I have to try to function like a normal person every day. How are you? : )
How many kids do you have?
Well, that depends. Do you want to know how many children live with me? Do you want to know how many living children I have? Or do you want to know how many times I have been pregnant and where all those kids are now? I thought I had that question all figured out, but it still causes intense panic every time. I wish I could just wear a sign that either said "Don't ask me how many kids I have!" or "My son just died, how do you think I am?" Maybe I should just make up t-shirts that say "I'm not crazy, just grieving." I'm thinking they would go over well. Maybe I could market them through the funeral homes. : ) Ahhh, I feel better now!
Momories 4-20-11
It seems like an eternity since Jeffrey died. At times, it is even as if he was never here at all. Yet, the memory of that tragic day replays in my head often as if it were yesterday. I feel guilty and sad at my lack of memory. How quickly it has faded. The mind really is a funny thing. My short term memory is better than it was. I still find it impossible to read upside down. The letters all look like foreign shapes.
I do well from day to day with the occasional punch in the stomach catching me off guard, like when my friends are picking out their baby a new swimsuit and I am picking out Jeffrey a headstone, or the church doing a new directory, but I just am not ready to have a family picture taken without him. After all he is still part of our family.
I do enjoy talking about him and hope I don't bore people or cause them to feel too uncomfortable. Sometimes, I feel like I just don't fit in anywhere, between having lost a child and the closeness I've found with God, I feel like I alienate people or they are afraid to approach me. I am still just a person. Imperfect, vulnerable, just trying to make it through like everyone else.
But, I just can't let my pity party get started. As much as I like to think it does, the world doesn't revolve around me. It will go on with me or without me and what should I do with myself if I let it go on without me. More than 100 days have passed and God has brought much comfort and a huge slap of reality. I feel my age for the first time. Maybe even older.
In my Griefshare groups, I have felt sad when they talk of the things they have done "in memory" of their loved ones. Nothing seemed appropriate or tangible. Early on all I could think of was how I liked to go rake the leaves around his graveside. It is theraputic and allows me to feel like I am doing something for him. More recently, I have come up with a couple of things that I don't know that I could say are "in memory" of him, but have come out of how his death has changed me. The first is a monthly cookout at our house. This stems from the reality that we aren't promised tomorrow. We often say "Oh! We should get together soon!" Then we don't. This gives not only us a chance to visit with the people we love, but them to visit with eachother.
I do well from day to day with the occasional punch in the stomach catching me off guard, like when my friends are picking out their baby a new swimsuit and I am picking out Jeffrey a headstone, or the church doing a new directory, but I just am not ready to have a family picture taken without him. After all he is still part of our family.
I do enjoy talking about him and hope I don't bore people or cause them to feel too uncomfortable. Sometimes, I feel like I just don't fit in anywhere, between having lost a child and the closeness I've found with God, I feel like I alienate people or they are afraid to approach me. I am still just a person. Imperfect, vulnerable, just trying to make it through like everyone else.
But, I just can't let my pity party get started. As much as I like to think it does, the world doesn't revolve around me. It will go on with me or without me and what should I do with myself if I let it go on without me. More than 100 days have passed and God has brought much comfort and a huge slap of reality. I feel my age for the first time. Maybe even older.
In my Griefshare groups, I have felt sad when they talk of the things they have done "in memory" of their loved ones. Nothing seemed appropriate or tangible. Early on all I could think of was how I liked to go rake the leaves around his graveside. It is theraputic and allows me to feel like I am doing something for him. More recently, I have come up with a couple of things that I don't know that I could say are "in memory" of him, but have come out of how his death has changed me. The first is a monthly cookout at our house. This stems from the reality that we aren't promised tomorrow. We often say "Oh! We should get together soon!" Then we don't. This gives not only us a chance to visit with the people we love, but them to visit with eachother.
My Days Are Numbered 3-29-11
One of the biggest things I've had to overcome in Jeffrey's death is that there is nothing I could have done to prevent it. I struggle with thinking I should have known he was sick or that I should have woken up during the night just sensing something was wrong because I am his mother. I drive myself crazy with the how's and why's. I have to continually remind myself that it was just his time. God had his days numbered even as he was being formed in my womb.
And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment
~ Hebrews 9:27
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
~Ecclesiates 3:1-2
Remind me that my days are numbered.
~Psalm 39:4
Many people are shot and survive, then one dies. Many people go to sleep then wake up. Then one doesn't. Many people get in car wrecks and walk away. Then some don't. Many people become terminally ill, then some live. We praise God for the ones that lived though all odds were against them. Then we get angry at God when they die. Maybe it should be looked at not from my warped view of my one isolated event, but the big picture. If you take these collectively God is really showing off. He is screaming "Life and death are in my hands! I have shown that I could have saved him. It was his time." Either today is my day and I will be in heaven knowing the meaning of the verse "A good name is better than ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth" or it is not my day and Gods name be glorified that he has spared me and that I have more work to do here.
"Zig Ziglar says,"God knows the exact time that we will die. He knows when He's going to call us home. There's nothing you can do to extend your life span one tenth of a second." No death (or birth) is simply the result of circumstances, an accident or fate. This doesn't mean God wanted your loved one to die or is morally responsible for the death. It means the same God who loved you enough to die for you is in control. God's ways are too complex for us to understand." ~Your Journey From Mourning to Joy
And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment
~ Hebrews 9:27
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
~Ecclesiates 3:1-2
Remind me that my days are numbered.
~Psalm 39:4
Many people are shot and survive, then one dies. Many people go to sleep then wake up. Then one doesn't. Many people get in car wrecks and walk away. Then some don't. Many people become terminally ill, then some live. We praise God for the ones that lived though all odds were against them. Then we get angry at God when they die. Maybe it should be looked at not from my warped view of my one isolated event, but the big picture. If you take these collectively God is really showing off. He is screaming "Life and death are in my hands! I have shown that I could have saved him. It was his time." Either today is my day and I will be in heaven knowing the meaning of the verse "A good name is better than ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth" or it is not my day and Gods name be glorified that he has spared me and that I have more work to do here.
"Zig Ziglar says,"God knows the exact time that we will die. He knows when He's going to call us home. There's nothing you can do to extend your life span one tenth of a second." No death (or birth) is simply the result of circumstances, an accident or fate. This doesn't mean God wanted your loved one to die or is morally responsible for the death. It means the same God who loved you enough to die for you is in control. God's ways are too complex for us to understand." ~Your Journey From Mourning to Joy
Jeffrey's Mommy...
I take pride in decorating the cemetery. It is all business when I go there. I just want to make sure nothing is out of place. But on occasion, my feelings get the better of me and I just suddenly feel dizzy and can't really figure out what I am doing there. Still that "this can't be happening to me" feeling. For the first time tonight as I passed and thought of the straw laid over the top and considered why I put that there. (I guess because I am a creature of habit. There is security in that. And, I put it there last winter to keep the mud off of the wreath. But then when I saw it there, it just seemed so sweet and fitting like a manger. One babe in the hay gone to be with another. ) But, then tonight, I thought (foolishly) of it keeping him warm which led to panic thinking of him down there crying for me, cold and scared. I guess a child in death does actually quit needing his mother. But a mother until death never quits needing to be needed. That's one of the hardest parts. I did so much for him and now I am just useless, yet I have all this Jeffrey's mommy part of me that is so confused and just wants to be busy doing something for him.
Blue Christmas
As, I get out old Christmas bags, the cards attached are made out to "Jeffrey" or "Little Jeff". I wish I could fill them up with stuff, anything, everything that any two year old boy might imagine fun. Probably boxes and tape. =)
I miss not shopping for him. It hurts when I take the time to see the little Jeffrey things out there. It hurts that there are only 3 "12 days of Christmas" boxes under the tree instead of 4. One missing stocking. One less smiling baby boy throwing ornaments, taking the pans out of the cupboard, unwrapping as fast as I wrapped, playing and making messes. =)
I wonder what he would be able to say and do this year. I wonder how different he would look. How different we all would look...
There just isn't a reason for everything.
I miss not shopping for him. It hurts when I take the time to see the little Jeffrey things out there. It hurts that there are only 3 "12 days of Christmas" boxes under the tree instead of 4. One missing stocking. One less smiling baby boy throwing ornaments, taking the pans out of the cupboard, unwrapping as fast as I wrapped, playing and making messes. =)
I wonder what he would be able to say and do this year. I wonder how different he would look. How different we all would look...
There just isn't a reason for everything.
Candle lighting
Last Sunday I attended a candle lighting service in honor of Jeffrey. It was awkward, unpleasant, uncomfortable, yet well put together and healing. They had a tree and some silver ornaments that each parent who lost a child could write their child's name on and hang it. They had some nice music and a speaker from hospice, who knew he was at a loss for any possible thing he could say to any one of us. They had a time for the parents to come up and light a candle in honor of their child and say a few words if they wanted. And then some cookies and coffee and a time to write a message on some balloons which we then released. It was nice to be able to feel like I was doing something to include him in the holidays. I've been so busy, which makes it easier to get through, but in that quiet time of reflection, I realized I wasn't quite as "okay" as I thought I was when I first walked in. But, I had just read this and found it very fitting for my take on the evening. "Each time you lift a weight, you actually create a tear in the muscle. When your body repairs that tear, it makes you stronger. Over time your endurance increases and you can lift more weight. God has made us emotionally in much the same way."~ Holly Gerth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)