Getting Stuck in the “Why” Cycle

The last couple of weeks have been hard for me.

They’ve been, “Why Rory” weeks.

Why didn’t Rory have temperature?

Why was she walking around, doing okay-ish until it was too late?

Why did we only get 36 hour from the time any symptoms hit?

Why didn’t we get inspired to do more?

Why were other family members throwing up with her?

Why wasn’t she buckled over in pain?

Why weren’t her symptoms more severe to alert us?

Why is my daughter gone?

Why?

Why?

Why?

I allow myself time to be sad and angry. I allow myself to cry in bed. I allow myself to hit pillows. To scream and shake my fists. Those feelings are real and have to be felt. To do otherwise is just pushing down emotions and that’s not effective for me.

But I don’t allow myself to live in that head space.

It doesn’t bring her back.

It doesn’t change the past.

It doesn’t help me be a better person.

It doesn’t make me a better support for my husband and sons.

In fact, it does the very opposite for the last two. I think if you were to ask Lance, he’d say I’ve been rather irritable the last couple of weeks.

I’ve had trouble fighting my way out of the depths I was in.

But I feel like I’m starting to see lights above the water.

Lots of lights.

Beautiful purple lights.

My Heavenly Father Loves Me

From a very young age, we ask why.

It’s a question that gets asked over and over again.

I think it’s human nature. We want to find meaning. We want explanations.

When something painful, something horrible happens, we want meaning. We want purpose.

It can’t happen for nothing.

This pain.

This suffering.

There has to be a reason for it.

I’ve heard reasons for Rory’s passing. There are a lot of platitudes out there that try to give meaning.

But here’s the problem with all the reasons.

Rory is still gone.

Reasons can’t bring her back.

And that’s all I want.

I want my daughter.

But.

Resignation.

That’s not going to happen in this life.

I can’t answer why.

I don’t have reasons. (Other than a malfunctioning appendix.)

But.

I’m a woman of faith.

This is what I know.

This has been the answer to my life-long search.

That continues to be my answer.

I have a Heavenly Father that loves me.

Not having answers is painful.

But I feel God’s love for me.

My anxiety rises as the questions swirl.

I cling to the knowledge so tight, I know God loves me.

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know how I’m going to get through everyday.

But I do know that I have someone in my corner. Someone that cares for me. Someone that looks out for me. Someone that makes sure I’m not doing this all by myself.

I know that my Heavenly Father loves me.