Saturday, April 3, 2010

The Empty Easter

Who knew Easter could leave such a bad taste in my mouth. The ultimate sacrifice was made. How can that be viewed with any negativity.

The empty feeling in my arms, and my heart, is particularly bad tonight. Knowing that tomorrow should have been one of Ariana's "firsts". Facing Easter without my precious daughter. Seeing her untouched Christmas presents is hard enough, not buying anything for her for Easter is terrible.

It's been going over and over in my head. "Well God lost his son, Gave him so we could live". Amazing. Such a sacrifice, such love.

But God knew Jesus would rise again. He knew his son would ascend to heaven. But then Ariana is in heaven as well. I know I'll be with her again. But God only had to wait three days. I have to wait a lifetime. But then who knows how long a lifetime will be. And God had to watch them murder his son. I had to let my daughter go.

Over and Over.

Empty. So Empty. I want to be excited, but I'm filled with dread.

On Monday, It will have been three months. Three long months since I last saw her beautiful face. Touched her tiny fingers, and kissed her little head. Three long Months since I could feel her, tangibly see her and know she existed.

The first "first" surely has to be the worst. Please tell me it's the worst. Because I don't know how I can live with this feeling, every single time we have something to celebrate.

Happy Easter Everyone. Loss is a bitter pill to swallow. Especially when it feels insignificant to another.


Anonymous said...

Sometimes, people make heavy things shallow when they don't choose to contemplate the breadth and depth of what IS.

It's easier for some to stick with the Easter bunny, egg hunts and pastel colors than to wrap their minds around Loss. Around ultimate sacrifice.

In all honesty, I do not celebrate Easter. But I deeply, profoundly and lovingly respect those who truly do: my own parents and siblings, included. I understand Loss. It cannot be consecrated in pastels or on a nest of grass in a basket; it can't be quantified.

My heart is with you, with your family as you face this bitter First- this empty space between what could have been, what should have been, and what IS. And in the silence that will fill my home tomorrow morning, in the absence of pastels and bunnies, there will be a quiet Knowing. Hoping. Blessing. And my heartfelt wishes that this new normal come to rest gently, stop tearing open the painful scabs.

I'm sorry, Tam. I wish I could tritely say, "It gets easier." I cannot. You and I both know better than that.

I can say this, though:

It will not be simple
It will not take long
It will take all your breath.

By all that is Merciful, I bow my head for you. For Ariana. And I hurt for you.

Vivienne said...

Hey Beautiful Girl! Have you ever seen the blog Down To Earth? I love the simple living and wisdom that this lady has, she's actually on the Sunshine Coast (I think) or the Gold Coast. There is so much that she does that is just day-to-day living. Thought you might like it. My heart goes out to you at this time and thought her simple little posts might offer you some nourishing diversion.