Unexpected
I was going to tell you how my shamrock cookies turned out. And about what happend after the Rite of Election all those days ago. And about how one of my friends is moving away in a couple of weeks, and we’re moving in a few months, but I can’t because I’ve been laid out flat.
I’ve been sorting through the house, getting ready for that move because it’ll be here before you know it, and that’s how I got hit upside the head and had to send the kids out to play and started typing in run-on sentences.
I found The Notebook. No, not the novel, but The Notebook I had to start keeping when Rebecca died. I couldn’t remember anything at all and there were just so many details to keep track of, so I had to write it all down. And I kept that notebook with me always, so it became a journal when I had too many thoughts in my head. The worst sorts of memories are in this notebook, funeral details, the wording of the memorial service invitation, notes and questions for the hospital’s attempt to stonewall explain the situation.
It’s a generic, green steno notepad, but when I picked it up I was pretty sure what was inside. I should not have read past the first page. I should have closed it and moved on. Instead, I skimmed through it. It was like breaking my heart all over again.
So here I am again, feeling like I’m going to fly apart into a million pieces and trying not to throw my shoe across the room because I’m really angry and I can’t fix it and nobody can and death sucks and the only reason I’m not going to throw my shoe isn’t out of a maturity I’ve gained through life’s experience, but because it is a wooden Hannah Andersson clog and it would break whatever it hit.
And now I have no good ending for this post, because really, what else is there to say?
I have a journal like that….and I have to avoid it…just like I have to avoid his pictures. My mind knows they are there but I can’t look at them…I can’t read it. I’ll be praying for you!
I think you should go ahead and throw the shoe. Sometimes we just need to throw the shoe.
I reach out to you across the miles and hold you in my arms. I wish I could make it all better for you. Yet I know it will never be until you hold Rebecca once again…someday you will. I am reading a book recommended by a good and dear friend of mine. The name of the book is “The Shack”. There is one moment in the book about the little girl reaching thru eternity to reassure her Daddy that she is okay and that she is wonderfully happy with Jesus. I found myself with tears running down my face and then the deep, wrenching sobs started as I thought about our Rebecca. At that moment,Rebecca reminded me that she,too,is wonderfully happy with Jesus. Yes,these moments come unexpectedly and they hit hard. Yet these moments also give us a time-out from our hectic schedules to remember the love and joy that we were blessed with because of one sweet baby girl,
our Rebecca! I love you, Lorri!
Lorri,
I know there are no words….none that seem to be of any help right now..just know that I pray for you and your entire family that you will have peace….I know where you are right now,it’s a hard place to be..God Bless you.
I don’t have words to console you, but know you are in my prayers.
I know I cannot possibly fix it, oh but how I want to. . .what I can be is a friend. Would you like to stop by for tea? I’ll have the tea kettle on with the tissues ready. Like you said there is no getting around the fact that death just sucks. Know I am praying for you, today and everyday.
You have been on my mind since I read this yesterday. I am praying for you.
Death absolutely does suck. I am so very, very sorry you found that and were struck blindsided by it all over again. Know that I am praying for your broken momma’s heart today.
I don’t even know what to say. I’ll be praying for you.
Lorri, I wish I had better words, but I am thinking of you and praying for you during this time. May I suggest a flip flop to throw across the room?
Thank you for sharing your heart.