A word from Maggie Lee's mom

WHAT I KNOW SIX MONTHS OUT
Jinny Henson

I have often reassured myself in the six months since Maggie Lee's death that although I have no idea what I will do without her, I honestly didn't know what to do with her when she first arrived, either. Somehow this gives me room to breathe and by the grace of God, I sense that I will adapt to my new life in some measure as I did before.

Of course, birthing a child and burying a child are two radically different prospects. On the one hand you deliver a bundle of dreams wrapped in possibility oozing potential and conversely, in the other unnatural scenario, you lower those most treasured dreams into the ground...forever. 

It is a disorienting experience and frankly I am shocked to still wake up every morning. "A Broken Heart Still Beats," is the title of a grief book for parents and, alas, mine still does. I remember reading a about a friend's 4-year-old daughter who had cancer two years ago. As I clicked out of the email, I sighed with relief that God had not laid that burden on me because He knew full well that I could never take anything so awful.

And then in a moment, despite the diligent love that you have and the protective eye you naturally cast, a freak accident comes calling and is unaware that your family is supposed to be exempt. As soon as you're told that your child will die, you begin to ratchet down expectations. You see a child in a wheelchair and breathe a hasty,"I'll take it," or one with a contracted little body, but still able to communicate and think,"I would gladly spend my life taking care of her" But, alas, the ultimate bargain isn't yours to make...  


I have learned a few things in my first 6 months of new-born grief. Certainly, many more lessons are to follow as I will contend with this ever-present absence as long as I shall live. I have learned that it is impossible to shake a good friend. Most people are lucky to have one true friend when it is all said and done. I have an embarrassing wealth of amazing friends and family who have shouldered the burden of loss with me. Souls who have sincerely attempted to put themselves in our unenviable shoes, anticipate our needs and keep us supplied with books and Starbucks cards. 

I have learned to treasure every imperfect day and those who remain. Life is hard and will not for the vast majority of us ever turn out in the way we would choose. I guess that's why we're all so cranky. Since Maggie Lee's death, I have tried to suck the marrow out of life even more than I did before; enjoying my family as they they are, not as they should be. We often unwrap the presents of the people around us with a conditional bent of dissatisfaction; we love our children but try to exact better performances from them. We appreciate our parents but our dad dresses funny and mom has a goatee. We are committed to our spouse but he sets the thermostat too low and never remembers how we like our coffee. Losing someone I love has helped me to step back and be grateful for what and whom I have left.

Even though I never was much of a control freak, I now know that even the appearance of control over my circumstances is nothing but a facade. It is with infinite wisdom that the writer of Ecclesiastes compares our earthly existence with a fleeting vapor. I have learned that even if life would've obediently followed my plans, that I would have at some juncture encountered a traumatic blow or two. Time wounds all heels, and many more graphically than mine, just consider Haiti. No purpose is served by pridefully thinking that no ones loss can ever rival mine. If I wear my disaster like a orchid on Mother's Day, it will only serve to frighten people. Every human being will be confronted by unwanted circumstances to which they can accept, or wander down main street in a nightgown like Mary Todd Lincoln. As for myself, I never looked too hot in a nightie.

I have learned that t-shirt fronts serve as great Kleenex if you suddenly get an unexpected gusher. Gut-wrenching grief is sneaky and will typically ambush you at the most inappropriate moments such as the carpool line, Sunday School or the deli counter over cold-cuts. Some times, emotions are brought on by well-intentioned small-talk such as, "How many children do you have?" or, "Is he an only child?" I have found it best to answer the question as my life is now rather than to thrust my emotional baggage on an unsuspecting Wal-Mart Employee. People by and large are unprepared for the flood of toxic emotions a grieving person is capable of producing...


I have learned that although I struggle with God and miss my daughter desperately that I am not prepared to go it alone. I know intrinsically that God is the only path to true healing of which I can conceive. Although there are days that the searing pain wins over me, I have learned that my Heavenly is indeed close to the brokenhearted, and that hope in Christ will sustain me until I see my precious child again. 

(For the full transcript go to http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/maggieleehenson)

Reply

Does anyone know how I can respond to individual comments?  Rita wants to know where I got the table in my entryway.  I don't know how to tell just her, so now you will all know that I got it a few years ago at Penney's.

Audra and Will have another snow day, so MAYBE they will start their new school tomorrow (Thursday).    Thanks for praying for them.  Perhaps they will get so bored, they will be glad to go anywhere--including a new school.

(Trying to)Be anxious about nothing

Since we moved in two weeks ago, Audra and Will have been going to their "old" school.  Now that the semester is over, they will be moving to their new school tomorrow.  Please pray for them to stand firm and trust in God.  Pray that they will "connect" with  friends quickly.  Jacob didn't change districts so he gets to stay where he is.  He  spent the night with two different friends this weekend so he is doing well socially.   Will and Audra miss having close friends to do things like that.  We are still hoping for a friend down the street for each of them.

Congratulations to our friends J and K who delivered their baby boy yesterday.  We wish we could be there to hug on him and on you!

Keep going

Last night we were watching "Facing the Giants" and we got to  the "death crawl".  In this scene, one of the football players is blindfolded and has to carry another player on his back while he crawls down the field.  The player keeps yelling, "It hurts!"  and the coach is right there in his ear, "I know it hurts!  Keep going!  I know it hurts!  Don't quit!"
I started bawling.
Because it does hurt.
Losing a daughter hurts.
Unpacking Anna's things and then packing them back up and taking them to the attic hurts.
Moving away from friends and family hurts.
Watching my kids struggle to fit in hurts.
Life hurts.
And I want to scream "It hurts!"
And I want to quit.
And God is right there beside me saying, "I know it hurts.  Keep going.  I know it hurts.  Don't quit."

Snowed In....Again!

It is snowing here in RVA.  Audra and Will have enjoyed playing in it and set up a Snow Restaurant.  Their motto is "Our food's delicious...sno joke!"  They even had delivery service so I ordered a Dr. Pepper slushy.

Jacob wanted to walk to his friend's house which is about a mile away.  Richard ended up taking him in the car and got stuck in front of our house.  It was a good way to meet the neighbor who came out to help him :-0

Can you hear Him?

I was reading in Exodus chapter 6 this week and saw this verse...

"I am the Lord...I will free you...I will redeem you...I will take you as my own...I will be your God...I will bring you to the land I promised...and I will give it to you..."

Doesn't that sound great?  Wouldn't you be thrilled to hear God say those things to you?  I would like to think that I would say, "YES Lord!  Thank you Lord!  I will trust you!  You will do what you say!  Hallelujah!"

But the next verse says,

"Moses reported this to the Israelites, but they did not listed to him because of their discouragement"

Wow.  They were too discouraged to listen.  Too discouraged to hear the good news.  Too discouraged to trust God that things could get better.

I've been there.  I've been hopeless.  I haven't listened when God says there is hope for the future.  I'm doing better, but there are still days when I get discouraged and forget his promises.

Are you listening to what He is saying?  Can you?

"I falter sometimes when I try to say, 'It is good for me that I have been afflicted.'  But I can now and then catch a glimpse of the truth of it."

"The sense of loss abides with us.  That we cannot change or cease to feel.  But the love of God can be felt too... To look from the earthly years upward to the heavenly is to rejoice, even through the tears."

(Selections from "Consolation" by Mrs. Charles Cowman, c. 1944)

So Long Sea Monkeys

Will got a sea monkey kit  a long time ago.  I know I have moved it twice and the monkeys never made it out of the box.  FINALLY this was the week.  He and his daddy prepped the water for 24 hours and then put the eggs in.  You have to wait 5 days for them to hatch.  Today was supposed to be THE day.  Yesterday Will had his little friend over after school.  She was here for no more than 5 minutes when Will came down the stairs saying, "The sea monkeys spilled!"  So now the sea monkeys are in the carpet never to be seen again.  This same little friend was confused by the fact that we don't currently have a microwave.  She kept asking questions, "Why don't you have a microwave?  How do you cook without a microwave?  Have you ever had a microwave?"  Finally she looked around and said, "Well, at least you have a refrigerator."


Since we are all bracing for another snow storm, I thought I would show you some pictures from the last storm.  These were taken on our trip from VA to KS.  I didn't get a picture of the sign that said "Avoid travel.  Seek Shelter."

Which way do we go?  I can't see the lines on the road!

These were the poor people who tried to outrun the storm on Friday,  which I had suggested, but my wise husband said no.

We were stuck in the middle of hundreds of trucks for HOURS as we creeped along at 20mph.

At the end of the day we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset.  You can't see these in VA because of all the trees.  If you will look closely, you can see the cross at the bottom of the picture.  When I see beauty like this, I imagine that this is what Anna sees all the time.