one year

One year.  June 24th was the one year anniversary of Ryan's death.  I want to thank each of you who reached out to me that day, with cards, phone calls, or messages of love and support.  It was appreciated more than words can say.

To be honest I was kind of numb or unemotional about the day.  I stressed a bit about how to best "acknowledge" it and nothing really seemed right.  I felt like I should have gone up to the cemetery but I just did not want to sit and relive that day full of shock and sorrow.  So, instead, I decided to make sure the kids and I were surrounded by family and just see what "felt" right as the day approached.  

Ultimately, through the numbness, the emotion that bubbled up on Saturday was a sort of anger or a kind of feeling of defiance.  Not anger at Ryan or anyone else, just anger that depression could rob us of so much.  I felt a fiery determination that depression and sorrow do not get to win.  So I think that somehow fueled my decision to make June 24th a good day.  Not a joyful day or a celebratory day, but just that we would not sit in a pit of sorrow and let the enemy win.  

Our joy is God-given and it can not be taken away because it is independent of our situations and circumstances.  This is the way of Christ.  Jesus, even amidst His earthly sufferings, pain, and sorrow, had JOY because He was abiding in the Father - the Father of all comfort and hope.  And how good is our glorious God to promise us that as well!  So I think I was determined to focus on the joy of Christ inside my heart over and above the sorrows of this earthly world.  That was my motivation for spending June 24th with some of my favorite people, in my favorite city (Santa Barbara) enjoying the warmth of summer and the beach.

I honestly was so focused on God's goodness and being so thankful for all He has done in my life these past 12 months that I felt a sense of peace and gratitude for God's healing comfort on June 24th.  I think I probably even surprised a few people who reached out to me that day when I responded with a hopeful demeanor and not one full of sorrow.  Ultimately, that focus on gratitude is what insulated me and carried through the deep sorrow I have felt these past 12 months.  

The next week brought the 4th of July, again precious time spent with family and friends.  Followed by Charlie's birthday (a Harry Potter themed pool party) and Katherine's birthday (a girlie girl day of shopping, chocolate, and getting her hair done).

Once the anticipation of June 24th was past, the 4th of July had come and gone, and the planning and celebration of the children's birthdays was over I was ready to breathe a huge sigh of relief.  And honestly, that is when it unexpectedly hit me.  Grief ambush.  I woke up Saturday morning, July 15th, and realized one year ago was Ryan's "homecoming" from Texas to California and the funeral.  I was overwhelmed with sadness that morning in an intense way that I did not see coming.  It took every ounce of strength to get out of bed that day and get going.  My heart and mind would have been fine hermitting in bed all day and simply ignoring the world because the world seemed awfully painful that morning.  But I got up and got going - I have children and pets and summer plans calling my name.  Thankfully those things keep me going on days like July 15th.

It is interesting to me though that when I think back to a year ago, my emotions almost mirrored that process, just with less intensity.  Obviously on June 24th I sunk into a pit of sorrow and pain, but my body went into a physical shock and a numbness those first days and weeks, where I could not eat or sleep or function.  The numbness and shock insulated me from the intense pain.  I have vague memories of fireworks on the 4th and others pulling together birthday celebrations for my children that following week.  I remember the HUGE blessing of gifts and cards and treats flowing in to celebrate my children, all mixed together with the sympathy cards, condolences messages, mortuary affairs, and funeral planning.  Those weeks are a fuzzy haze to me of not feeling any emotions really, as a numb shock completely took over.

Then July 15th arrived and I attended Ryan's funeral.  The kids and I had attended a huge memorial service in Texas on June 29th as well, but since it was a memorial and not his burial, I stayed insulated in the shock.  The graveside funeral on the 15th was were the shock finally wore off, the numbness was gone, and the reality sunk in that no one was going to come up to me and apologize for making a mistake.  No one was gong to tell me that Ryan was okay and they got the wrong person.  No one was going to make it all alright.  I was actually going to have to say good bye to my beloved as his body was put in the ground.  That realization was when the most intense pain hit me and my lowest part of this whole painful journey was that sleepless night and the morning of July 16th, waking up without Ryan and having the finality now of knowing in my heart and mind that I never would again.

So it almost does not surprise me that I felt insulated on June 24th this year but that July 15th was the low point.  On June 24th of last year my heart had not processed what my brain was hearing.  But by July 15th I was forced to face and acknowledge my loss, my grief, and then my new reality.  This year it seemed as though I did not really process what a full 365 days meant until I realized that one year ago I had watched that shiny wooden casket lowered into the ground, the dirt replaced, and the sod returned.  I had sat there, kneeling down on that freshly laid cemetery grass, clutching that folded flag given to me, and finally knowing in my heart that I would never clutch Ryan again - that this truly was good bye.  So reliving those July 15th memories again was the difficult part for me.

But I remain thankful.  Thankful that even in reliving those memories and events of last June and July, the pain has somehow softened.  Time didn't soften it, God's healing comfort and hope has.  As believers in Christ, we grieve as those with hope.  We know this is not the end of the story.  We know that amidst the depression and sorrow, there is still joy, even if pain temporarily blinds us to it.  Abiding in the Father always brings joy.  As Jesus was beaten and hung on that cross, he encountered and experienced horrific pain and sorrow. And yet He had joy, because He knew death was not the end of the story.  Death and depression do not get to win!  

We have hope in the one who carries us through pain, because He experienced it.  We have comfort from the one who comforts and loves, because it is His very nature.  And we have joy because our joy comes from God alone, not our circumstances.