Still Hard
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All are welcome
Good pride
It has been six weeks since Sam died. Six weeks without him. Not a day goes by where we do not miss him.
Sam’s memorial service is just five days away. I have been going through our pictures to share with everyone.
How can I even begin to capture and communicate his life. … I have to accept the pictures for what they are – simple snapshots. Snapshots that are limited to mere moments of time providing limited windows into Sam’s life. Our life with him. His life with friends and family.
Sam’s life was rich. He was deeply loved and he also loved freely.
Though my heart aches for him each and everyday that goes by I remain proud of him. I remain proud of who he was and the man that he was becoming. Oh that I could have seen more.
Pain
I know it has not been very long since Sam died but I did not imagine that the grief-pain would be so bad. I consider how I am doing and everything ends with the suffix: sad. Some of how we experience our grief:
- Sad-sad which for me means I don’t want to be with anyone. I hide and I cry. Tina’s experience of this is different – she needs to share her sadness and as much as I withdraw she seeks people out to share the sadness. Though different both are real ways that we experience sad-sad.
- Happy-sad when we hold a precious memory of Sam and can have some measure of joy in the memory though our hearts still ache for our boy.
- Angry-sad when I am angry at the situation. When my mind rails at the injustice. Sam’s death is just wrong. This is not a place that I want to live – though I have to admit it does give me more energy to get some things done than the other sad-types
- Unclassified-sad the wave of sadness that seems to have no source, no outlet, a wave that threatens to pull you down but you don’t have a clue where it is going.
I have to admit that I do have periods, an hour here or there, where I am not conscious of my grief. However, when this happens there is almost always a strong backlash. It is like the grief just builds up waiting for its turn and hits like a flood.
Good choices
Despite the pain. Despite the sadness. We are moving forward. We are caring for one another. Each day we continue to start with:
We are going to have a great day – O Yeah! 1
And we do.
We choose to do what Sam did: Be strong and courageous, choose joy, and give love!
Victories and Heart Aches
Our hearts ache. We are committed to moving forward but this is hard work.
We are thankful for the extraordinary effort of friends and family to gather around us to care for us. Our community, and our church community in particular, have risen to the challenge of caring for us – assisting with memorial planning, food, while providing compassionate friendship.
We are thankful for many messages of care and solidarity with us as we grieve.
We are thankful for many special messages reflecting what Sam has meant to people.
We are thankful for the simple precious moments we had with Sam.
We are mindful of friends and families – those that remain in the fight to see their children through incredible health challenges (cancer or other). We hope with you and we will continue to celebrate your wins!
We are mindful of friends and families – who have seen their children die. That they are in similar grief storms. We grieve with you. Our hearts break again for your loss.
Thankful for great times, especially for Sam:
- Cedars Grade 11 trip (Sept 8-11): Our soul-hearts have been refreshed! Filled with the love of friendship. It was incredible to see Sam have time with his friends from school. The students and the leaders from Cedars have lifted/blessed all three of us.
- It was amazing to see Sam join the Ness Lake Bible Camp team (July 28 - 31) . He served, ran, talked, played – he got to be fully there! Many thanks to the NLBC team who welcomed him in. When Sam needs to think of a happy place he returns here in his mind and he is quick to share stories of these days.
We are thankful to the medical team here at BC Childrens’ Hospital. Sam never lacked for incredible care.
We are thankful for all the days that we lived at RMH.
It was a gift to have a place to stay so close to the hospital. The Ronald McDonald House (RMH) provided us a home away from home. This place is an amazing example of charity at work.We long for the day when
Our hearts ache. We grieve. Yet Sam is free of disease.
Footnotes
see our post: On Grief, Courage, and Love↩︎