Tuesday, February 7, 2012

6 Months: Pain Knows No Time

I know in August I thought because my loss was so recent to me that it was more painful than others who had experienced loss less recently. It's strange now to think that I thought that way. Especially now that it has been 6 months - some days the pain is stronger now than it was in August. How naive of me to think my pain was more poignant because it was more fresh! For me it seems to not be less poignant with time, but more or less poignant depending on the moment. 

Some days I curl up in the nursery chair with the quilt I made for Luke and simply weep. I miss him. I long to hold him. I long to watch him grow. Other days I quietly put my necklace around my neck and smile at the sweet memory of my beautiful son. The hurt of death does not encompass me daily. 

The words of the book The Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination stand out to me concerning the matter of time. She writes:

"...life goes on but ... death goes on, too, ... a person who is dead is a long, long story. You move on from it, but the death will never disappear from view. Your friends may say, Time heals all wounds. No, it doesn't, but eventually you'll feel better. You'll be yourself again. Your child will still be dead."

It's true life goes on yet death goes on too. It's not something you "get over" or that you "move on from" (like a middle school crush). It is something that will always be a part of my life. I will always have a child who has departed this life. That will never change. 

The difference for me, though, is that I don't feel like I've ever not been myself like the quote suggests. Grief never consumed me into being someone I wasn't. I've been me for the past six months (and for 24 years before that). For the past 6 months I've been me --a mother with a loving heart, a caring wife, a friend, a neighbor, a seamstress, a chef, a writer, a hairstylist, a painter, a traveler, a designer, a dancer, or whatever else I am. I've been me. Me with an aching heart. I haven't been consumed by an aching heart that made me be something different. I've simply been me with a heart that longs and yearns to meet my son. And that will never change. 

If that is what grief is then it is surely something that will last until the day I die. And I'm okay with that. I want my heart to always long for my son. I want him to always have a place in the forefront of my mind and heart. That is where I put things that matter most to me, and there he will forever stay. 

My sweet baby, Luke, I love you more today than I did yesterday, because with each passing day you are continually entwined into my life, my heart, and my faith that I will see you again. I love you more than earthly words can express. I am so grateful that you are forever mine. I love you. Love, your mommy. 


  1. I love how your write about pain. Grieving people are of course themselves, but a unique version I think- maybe more refined and closer to the Lord.

    I know Luke is up in Heaven smiling down on you and is proud to call such a wonderful woman mom.

  2. Thank you Shelley, your faith makes me want to be a better person.

  3. You are amazing! I think about you daily! I love you dear friend. Isn't it strange how fast time goes, yet how slow. I can't wait till I get to hold my Porter again. Sending you lots of loves darling!

  4. How beautifully put, Shelley. I can't even imagine how you must feel about Luke, but I know that sometimes I get a stabbing pain thinking about him and you. Thank you for sharing.