Little Moments of Healing

So, this is going to be lengthy- just a fair warning!- but I've been thinking of writing about this for a long time, and I guess tonight is the night.  Today I want to write about

Little Moments of Healing.  

The firsts.  The first time you do pretty much anything after a major life change.  For us, that major change was losing our oldest son unexpectedly just a few months before he was to turn three.  The first day after, the first Tuesday, the first 8th of the month, the first birthday they aren't with you, the first holiday, the first year anniversary of their passing, the first time you drive by the place you used to go together, the first time you hear their favorite show come on, the first time you eat the food they loved, the first time you clean the floor again, the first time you laugh, the first time you sing, the first time you get stopped at a train crossing and there's no little voice asking 'where the train go? awaiting your reply of 'off to help someone!'  The first time you smile at their memory instead of cry, and realize it...

The first time of anything...without them.

But with all those firsts, there is a great possibility of joy.  I know because I'm getting better at seeing them now.  So if by chance you are facing something life changing, I hope you will see the possible moments of strength for what they are- Moments of Healing- even earlier than I did.  And if you continue to struggle, I hope my sharing this gives you another perspective that will bring you peace or a taste of hope that you may be struggling to find.  

Everyone heals differently- that's the way it should be.

Lots of years ago- I prefer to not count how many- the world stopped for our family.  It seemed like it would never, ever start again, and to be honest, I didn't think I wanted it to.  I actually found myself angry when I realized the world was still turning.  How could this be?!  How could everyone be continuing as if every day was just "business as usual?"  

I remember standing in the grocery store a couple of weeks after our darling little fireball Luke went to heaven and starting to cry that I needed to buy more cheese.  Cheese!  How could our cheese have gone bad?  Didn't it realize life in our home had stopped?  Didn't it realize that our world was frozen- nothing would move forward from that moment on?  And this woman came up and grabbed some cheese right off the hook in front of me without a care in the world.  The nerve!  I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but I also felt as if a moment of clarity was washing over me.  It was a familiar feeling- but the first I remember consciously taking note of after we had returned home and to 'life.'  It was one of many of what I from then on would term, "Little Moments of Healing."  I began to think:  Never again will I have to do this again for the first time after Luke passed.  This was it.  I am doing it.  I am going to get it over with and buy cheese, and it will never again be as hard as it will be for me at this moment. And I was right.  I bought the cheese.  

I don't think I could consciously list all the many "Moments of Healing" that have come and gone since that day, but I know there have been MANY.  You would think that being so many years from that time I wouldn't have many left to have- the "experts" as well as those "well-meaning people that don't understand" kindly report, 'Time heals all wounds,' so....you know...aren't I healed yet?!'  Um, no...but am I happy?  Yes.  Do I find many reasons to smile each day?  Yes.  Will I continue learning and growing and loving and living?  Yes.  But 'healed? as in no longer miss him and the life we had hoped for him?'  No.  Until I get to those pearly gates I will probably always long for that in some way.  To touch him, to see him, to watch him grow, marry, be a dad.  (But won't Heaven be AMAZING?!!)  I think this describes it pretty accurately:  

Losing a loved one is like losing a limb- it never heals in the sense that it comes back and is just like it always had been- but your body does in fact heal.  You learn to live differently- you learn to live without it.  You realize there is still joy to be had, mistakes to be made, love to be shared.  You never forget it used to be there- and sometimes you mourn for it all over again- 

but you learn to live anyway.  

Easy?  No.  Possible?  Yes.  Because if you open your eyes to find them, you'll realize you're getting stronger each and every day- with each and every Little Moment of Healing.

Those Little Moments of Healing continue to show up for me...Moments I don't realize I'm still holding my breath for in a sense...until they happen.

Five? years ago was another big Healing Moment for me.  I had just made the decision with my hubby that we were going to Disney World with our kiddos and we had the dates worked out.  I was so incredibly excited!  I called to tell my dad because he and my mom were going to join us.  I didn't realize it at the time, but he was actually sitting with a family who had just lost their little one suddenly.  The magnitude of the contrast between my life and that of this family were not lost on me.  When I learned of the news, I was right back where I had been the night after Luke passed.  Stunned.  Confused.  As if I'd never breathe again.  And then almost immediately as I began to pray and to remind myself, 'it's not me'- I realized how far I had come.  Where I once thought I would never be able to buy cheese again, I was now planning for a future vacation and I was filled with joy and excitement as I did so.  Life had continued- my life was continuing- we really were doing ok.  And I knew I had moved forward to a point that maybe, just maybe, I could offer some hope to this family in a nightmare situation I had recently lived myself.  It was amazing to see how helping another brought so much healing to my life- healing I didn't realize I hadn't faced yet- and I came away that much stronger because I didn't shy away from the chance to grow a little more.  (See the picture of us at Epcot?  We were smiling!)

  

This past week I was blessed to go to Disney World again to run a race with my family.  My mom, sister, and I ran it together- what a blessing to do it as a team!!  But there was about ten minutes where I was on my own (nature called, I listened.) and I was running to catch up with them after my bathroom break.  As I ran through the Magic Kingdom I took in as much as I could- it was magical!  I came around a bend...and saw the train.  Trains always have and always will remind me of Luke.  I didn't realize how much it would mean to me to see the train until I saw that train.  I was filled with joy- he's here!  He's thinking of me!  God is reminding me I'm not alone.  And I smiled.  Another step in healing.  That train is still helping people- and this time, as it is often nowadays when I hear that whistle blow, the person it's helping is me.

Hug your babies, your honeys, your loved ones.  

You have them for eternity, but why wait to enjoy them?