Mourn with Those that Mourn

There is so much pain in the world.

On Monday my mind clouded, thinking about the knock.

The knock that every military family dreads.

Their serviceman or servicewoman wasn’t coming home.

Within the minute it takes them to answer the door, their life will never be the same.

Then, on the same day, George Floyd’s last pleading words are caught on video as he was murdered.

Last words.

Some of his last words were very similar to Rory’s last words.

I’ve thought a lot about George’s family.

Their haunting minutes, the ones that forever changed their lives, are viral for everyone to see.

Their pain is everywhere.

George was a father. Son. Brother. Friend.

I mourn with them.

And I’m listening.

Not only to their pain but to those that share their same fear. That because of the color of their skin their loved one might not come home safely.

I hear you.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

Time is a Thief

It’s often said that “time heals all wounds.”

I think most grieving people would say that heals is a strong word.

It’s an open wound. For the rest of my life.

But I’d also say that even time has mixed reviews.

As time passes it might be easier to get through the day to day. I’m sure it’s gotten easier. I can’t really recognize it as there are still a lot of sad days.

But time is also a big, fat thief!

Yes, big.

Yes, fat.

It eats memories.

It steals the way her hands once felt on mine.

It steals the exact way she laughed.

It steals away the exact way she used to skip across the field.

It eats remembrances.

As those memories begin to fade, the longer she’s away, the more I hate time.

I hate time because she’s not here.

I hate time because it just keeps going.

Why is it still going?

But I’m also grateful for it.

In the time since Rory passed my twins have grown taller than me.

They started high school.

They went to their first dance.

They take leadership roles in our family.

Since Rory’s passing, Dax turned 12 and was given the priesthood at our church.

Dax has competed in another season of gymnastics and learned more amazing skills.

He’s getting ready to graduate elementary school.

While time is taking memories of one, the other three keep growing, developing, and turning into amazing men.

I both love and hate time. All in one moment.

Time is Weird

1 year

1 month

1 day

And it just keeps going.

I can probably write a dozen blogs specifically about time. It’s weird now.

It’s frozen.

But it never stops.

Time just keeps going.

But part of me didn’t make it past November 13, 2017. And that part will always be there.

How will I ever update my phone with new pictures on the screen?

I can’t get a new one with all four of my kids smiling back at me. It’s impossible.

In so many ways I’ve just had to move forward. There was no other choice for me to make.

I have to be there for my boys.

But in other ways, I’ll forever be in 2017.

When my family was whole.

When my baby girl was with us.