Why God?

Why God?

Why did you take my son?  I have laid awake night after night and have asked you this question over and over.   I cannot tell you how many nights I have waited for a sign from you…I continuously wait for an answer that never comes.  Why did you take my son?  Why my son?  

I lay in the dark and talk to Jeff…as though he were truly there.  I at times have had signs from Jeff.  I feel he has tried time and again to let me know he is fine, and to let me know he is still with me…helping me through this passage of sorrow.  But nothing from you God…not one thing.  Everyone, from my earliest days to present, have always said and continue to say, all you have to do is ask God…”ask him anything”…he will always answer.  “Look for signs,” he sends us messages through signs.  

I remember being in the Denver hospital surgery waiting room praying, “Please help Lord.  Take this disease from Jeff’s body.  Guide the surgeon’s hand so there will be no mistakes.”  Jeff was undergoing his Deep Brain Stimulus surgery for his Parkinson’s disease at a hospital in Denver.  He had one of the best surgeons in the area…and still it is as though God himself was taking the day off.  The surgery was aborted mid-way through the surgery, and Jeff ended up with a brain infection which nearly killed him.  The DBS surgery went haywire from start to finish, and everything that could go wrong in a hospital…went wrong.  Where were you on this day Lord?  Where were you during this time in Jeff’s life? Where were you every time Jeff had a surgery…it was though my son did not matter to you. Not one surgery Jeff endured seem to help him.  Not one of my prayers were answered by you God.

I came across this beautiful picture online the other day…the words say everything I feel.  My heart was not ready to endure this pain.

And then there is this which Dwaine found and put on my FB wall…Grief never ends.  I can attest to its ever changing passages.  Passages of grief.   

Is this really what grief is…the price of loving someone?  Did I love Jeff to much?  Is this why I grieve?  I grieve because I still love my son.  I grieve because I miss him.  I grieve because he was taken from me.

One of my cousins, knowing I was in much emotional pain, wrote this, 

“Just know that Jeff will never be gone as long as you breathe. For every breath you take he feels you for he is everywhere you go. When the sun shines on your face and you feel that warmth know that it's Jeff smiling down on you. When you feel the wind all around you know it's Jeff blowing you kisses. When you feel you can't breathe know that it's Jeff hugging you tight. For as long as you have life Jeff will also because you keep him alive by speaking of him, remembering him, sharing your memories of him, loving him and thinking of him. They are only gone when they are forgotten and Jeff will never be because you breathe him. Take care and Remember. "Jeff is all around you".  

Without a doubt, these words are the most beautiful I have ever read.  I will, at times, go to the cemetery and just stand there.  I try to remember these beautiful words...but as I stand there nothing comes to me.  I don’t pray, I just stand there.  Quite frankly, I do not even remember the last time I prayed, perhaps it was the same weekend I knew Jeff was to die.  I know I did not pray on the trek to Colorado Springs upon hearing of Jeff's death...I know I did not pray to you because all I wanted was to join him.  All I wanted was to die.     

God do you remember how very hard I prayed that weekend?  I remember how hard I prayed for you to keep Jeff safe.  I remember how very hard I prayed for you to heal Jeff from his pain.  Jeff was never healed…you did not heal him...no not at all…he died.  Was that your doing?  Is this how you, God the almighty, answered my prayers?   By taking Jeff from me, is this how my prayers were answered?  Throughout his life Jeff was inflicted with one disease after another.  On top of that he also endured injury after injury.  How was that possible?  Why did that happen?  The damn doctors couldn’t even give us an answer.  Every single time they thought they knew the answer, you God, would throw them another curb ball.  If you dear God, refused to answer my prayers, and if the doctors could not give us an answer…where do you think that left us?  Where do you think my mind goes now…in the middle of the night this is all I think about, all the years Jeff spent in pain.  I think about all the many times Jeff himself must have prayed to you for help…to no avail from you.  You, God, were not here to help my son…so why in the hell would I bother to turn to you now?  What good would it do for me to worship you now?  I am talking directly to you in this letter...and still no answer.

And Now What?

And Now What? 

I cannot tell you how many times I have asked myself this question.  Now what?  What do I do now?  Where do I go from here?  And then what?  The answer to all these questions…I still do not know.  I just do not have an answer.  Some days I am doing fine and at the drop of a hat…I am a mess.  Am I getting better…yes I am.  I guess I will be getting better for a long time.  Stupid, huh?   This is the only conclusion I have come to know.  I am getting better, but I am not quite there yet.   

There are still days where something will trigger my emotions and boom!  Down I go!  Then there are day where I am sobbing all night and wake with swollen eyes.  Those are the days I slumber out of bed and force myself to go in to work.  Those day are fewer and fewer as time goes by…but they are far from gone.  I can only surmise that life will go on until one day I will finally realize I no longer have those days.  Today is not that day… 

I miss my son…and I miss my husband.  Isn’t that funny.  Ever since I let go of their ashes I have fallen back in time.  Yearning for the life I shared with them.  Longing to have my family back in one piece.  Those horrible emotions of months passed have suddenly returned…and at times…even those desires of finding a truck in my path have returned.  How many countless people have shared these up and down emotions, this sorrow, that seems to bounce in and out of my life at the flip of a switch?  I know from research and from counseling I am still on the right track…but at times it feels like I am regressing.  I know I am still going through phases of grieving.  I find it incredible that after all this time, I still find myself going through these phases. 

There is no time table on grief.  Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own timeline…no two people are alike.  So why does it still surprise me that I seem to have fallen back?  I guess because I am unable to answer the question…Where do I go from here?  I don’t have an answer, and as long as my sorrow weaves in and out of my life…I won’t have an answer.   I do try to keep moving forward…I keep telling myself…anything that happens from now on will never be as bad as what has already transpired.  I keep telling myself that but truth is…I am still fighting that which has already transpired. 

I miss talking to Jeff.  Jeff once wrote me, “One of the things I miss most about dad…the ability to talk to him with the confidence that whatever I said, would stay between us; and the unbiased in his opinions.”  And another time he wrote, “The one thing I miss most about dad is his calmness through adversity, and his wisdom.  I am nowhere near as tough as dad was, but I am not exactly weak either.  I can deal with what I’m going through, and the pain will eventually subside.  I’ll be fine, trust me.”   The very thing he missed about his father is the very thing I miss most about my son.  His unbiased opinions…confidence that whatever we talked about would stay between us.  I miss Jeff’s calmness through adversity, and oh yes…I miss his wisdom.  I miss being put on a pedestal, I miss being loved.  I miss being called ‘Mom’ by my son, and I miss being called ‘Lotus Blossom’ by my husband.  Is that really so bad?  Is it really so bad I have questions that I cannot answer…questions which I may never be able to answer?   Jeff said he would be fine…isn’t this the same thing I keep telling myself.  I will be ok.  I can find a way to deal with this immediate pain…this sorrow.  (Although Jeff’s was talking about his physical pain).  It is no different. 

For the last few weeks I keep telling myself…”Keep going, this is just another hill.  This is nothing like the mountains you’ve already climbed.   Just keep moving, this will pass.”  The problem is, even though I know this will pass…when you, I, am in the moment…the sorrow is at times all too consuming to allow yourself/myself to know it will pass.