Hope

I mentioned recently that I have hope I won't always be in the grips of grief, that it won't always be this bad. I don't have hope because I'm strong (I don't feel strong, ever, I mostly feel like I'm barely hanging on). I don't have hope because I have great faith (I have hardly any faith most days. I have just enough to not be able to deny God's existence, even if I wanted to, which, honestly, I wish I could, but not enough faith to trust God). Before you freak out at me, again, please know that I'm not having a crisis of faith. My kid died and I'm pretty beat down. Just like I have hope that I won't always feel this bad, I have hope that someday I'll like Jesus again.***

These days what gives me hope are people who have survived incredible loss and somehow continued to live. One of the hardest things is the fact that Eli isn't here today, and he's not going to be here tomorrow, and he's not going to be here next week, next month, or next year. How am I supposed to keep living like this? How will I not just fall over and die one day from the weight and pain of it all? One day at a time is a great idea and all, but do you live that way? It is terrible for life to be so overwhelming that you can't even consider tomorrow. How many tomorrows do I have? I don't really want very many. Please.

Yet I know people who have lost children and eventually were able to function and even thrive in life. There are even more people in history and currently alive well known folks who have lived well on the other side of disaster. There's not a clear path there, and these people still grieve for the ones they've lost, but they found a way to live and find joy. Their stories encourage me and give me hope, that someday I can be in that place. At least as long as I have to keep waking up and breathing.

I was watching a documentary about President Abraham Lincoln the other day. Did you know he had a 4 year old son that died? And then over a decade later, while he was president, he had a 12 year old son that died. I think that's why he was able to bring our country through the civil war. He was a grieving dad and masculine grievers tend to be task-oriented and therefore work a lot. (Feminine grievers seek out support.) There's a determination unlike any other that comes with controlling something when you know that ultimately you can't control anything. That's my opinion at least. On the flip side of Abe's grief was his wife, Mary Todd's grief. She was not well. She and Abe became a bit estranged. Then after Abe was assassinated she really wasn't well. She holed her herself up in a room. She didn't go to Abe's funeral. Then their youngest son died when he was 18. After that she was institutionalized for the remainder of her life. Seriously. Poor Mary. So much loss.

Vice President Joe Biden is another famous griever. His wife and daughter were killed in a car accident decades ago. I'm sure it was terrible for a long time, but he's been able to build a life after loss. Now his son died from brain cancer a few months ago. He just announced that he's not running for president and part of his reasoning is that he doesn't think he has enough emotional reserve for a presidential campaign (I'm paraphrasing). And you know? God bless him. It's a subtle statement on grief, but it's an important one. Losing someone you love takes a lot out of you and you don't just get over it or go on with your life.

Someday I might feel like living and experience joy. It won't be anytime soon. But I am thankful for the hope of grievers who have walked through the pain and made it to somewhere better, closer to whole. I'm not the first grief-stricken parent and I won't be the last. But man, humans can bear a shocking amount of pain and not die.


***When I say things like this, a lot of Christians and even friends get very threatened and/or have a crisis about it for me. This looks a lot like trying to convince me to think or feel differently. Even though I hate that with every part of me, I'm not going to let it stop me from being honest about my grief. I am not the only one that has had, is having, or will have this experience. There are so many people who in their grief are told their feelings are wrong, are told their faith isn't enough, that they should just pray and trust and they'd be better. That is a lie. Grief is a natural part of life. While soul-crushing, there is nothing extraordinary about my grief. If God is love, and grief is love with nowhere to go, then I think God knows a thing or two about grief. Also, the bible is filled with people who questioned God and expressed anger and sadness toward God, and they are our examples of faith. But when a currently living human who also tries to have faith expresses the same laments, it's somehow wrong. Let me gently suggest that some unconditional love will move me along in my journey far better than trying to convince me (or another grieving person) of something I'm not sure of.