Time

I haven't posted in 5 months.  I don't even know why.  I think about it all the time and think of all the things I want to say.  And then I just don't do it.  I guess maybe it's because sometimes I feel like I'm saying the same things over and over again.  Nothing has really changed.  Nothing needs to be reported on.  There aren't really any new milestones.  So what is left to say?

I think I've probably used 'Time' as a post title before.  It seems to go right along with the word 'GRIEF'.  Tick-tock, tick-tock.  Time moves on regardless.  Time is such a strange concept when you've lost a child.  I can hardly put it into words.  I've said this before but it hasn't changed- sometimes it seems that we just lost Lincoln yesterday.  I remember little tiny details and can still imagine what it was like to hold him and to rock him to sleep.  What it was like to bathe him and to get him dressed each morning.  And yet at the same time it seems like a lifetime has already passed.  Sometimes it even seems dream-like.  Do we really have a son?  Was he with us until he was two or did I just dream that?  I hate that feeling.  I sometimes hear myself explaining that my son passed away and then think to myself, 'did that phrase actually just come out of my mouth?  That's not my life?  I'm not living this nightmare!  Wake up!'  But I am.  It's me.  And this is my life.

I remember counting every single hour, every single day, in the beginning, after Lincoln passed away.  It had been 2 days and then 2 weeks and then 2 months.  My friend told me after awhile I'd lose track of the exact time it had been that I'd start approximating.  I didn't believe her.  There was no way I'd lose track of that time.  But I have started to.  It's been "about 1 1/2 years" although I often say we lost our son a year ago and then realize it's been much longer than that.  And sometimes it feels more like it's been 30 years.

And with each passing year there are new things to grieve.  New experiences that make my heart hurt in new ways.  I'm discovering a new one right now, as we are in the middle of fall and Halloween approaches.  Last year it was easy to imagine what our Lincoln would have been dressed up as for Halloween.  I knew exactly who he would have been and what he would have looked like.  His big sister was going to be Princess Marida from Brave, so obviously my little curly red-headed son would be one of her triplet brothers.  How cute, right?!  But this year I don't know what he would have been.  I can't picture as easily how tall he would be or what he would be interested in.  And then there's Christmas approaching and the same heart ache comes.  Last year I knew about where his skill level was at.  I could imagine the progress he would have made and the toys we would have bought him for Christmas.  This year isn't so easy to imagine.  What skills would he have learned within the past 1 1/2. Would he be walking?  Would he be talking by now?  What if he wasn't?  Then what would he like?  What would he be into?  And for some reason that's hard for me.  Maybe because it's a reminder of how long it's been.

Although it makes me sick to know that in about 6 months we will have lived without Lincoln here with us as long as we lived with him, there are moments where I breathe a sigh of relief and give myself a pat on the back for making it this long.  Yay for us.  Keep going . . .

And I must say that I of course continue to find joy in my life.  I try hard to and often am able to.   A dear friend of mine who has also experienced the loss of a child shared with me a quote that I like.  And I understand:

"Certainly joy has taken on a

different meaning more than ever before.

I used to equate joy with happiness.

Clearly, I may never be happy again.

Joy is now a deep abiding place,

an assurance that God is sovereign.

I don't have to like what happens.

I merely have to trust that 

God knows what He is doing."

So much time has passed that I thought we had found every single picture we had ever taking of Lincoln.  But the other day a friend of mine found another one of him.  What a tender mercy.  It was when he was 1 1/2 years old at our church Halloween party.  He was an octopus.  And when I look at that picture, in a moment I can remember snuggling with him that night, as if it were just yesterday.