A long day.
I'm wiped out... physically, mentally, emotionally.
How can the number on the calendar make such a difference? Or maybe it's just the stale icing on the already burnt cake.
A friend has been working on a drawing of Rachel for me. Today at our lunch break at our homeschool group, I went to the van to look at the rough draft she sent me last week. I felt like I needed to see her. I've never looked at facebook from my phone before and I saw that at the bottom of my page, it listed the years. I reluctantly decided to open 2010. There was a update on October 6, 2010 with a picture of Rachel... updates that talked of the blessings God was bestowing on us just before her diagnosis, messages from people as they asked people to pray for us on Rachel's birthday.
Deep sigh... went back in and did life, all the while, feeling the heaviness of death.
I went to Rachel's grave and found it, yet again, in shambles from this bird feeder. Her mums are totally flopped over, there were broken open sunflower seeds plastered all over her stone. It was raining. I was tired. I wiped them off with my hands as best I could, sloshing water all over the place in the meantime... and my finger got caught on a pointed part of the bottom of her stone and cut it.
Tears started to fall... I put my arms out to the side and looked around me.
I've memorized every area of this cemetery and most days I think it's quite pretty. Today as I stood in the rain crying, thoughtful decorations having taken a turn for the worst, I resented the way these squirrels have trampled over her space... my space... the space I wanted birds to enjoy... the space I dedicated to welcoming life to this ugly part of my journey.
I don't want to do this anymore Lord. I hate this. I hate cemeteries. I hate this cemetery.
And after I let Him in on how unhappy I am with what He deemed an appropriate plan for my life, I got back in the van and continued on. As I do every day. As I do every 3rd.
And I told her I'll be back on Friday to fix this mess I created.
On August 4, 2010 our hearts broke as we heard the Dr. say "she has anencephaly...these babies don't live" at our 19 wk ultrasound. The Dr. is wrong. Our precious daughter's time on earth may be short, but she will live for eternity with our Lord in heaven. During the few months we have her here with us, we intend to make the most of every second of it. Our hope is that she will leave behind more than a few short memories, but that she will leave a legacy of what it means to hope in Jesus.
Awww Stacy, my heart aches. Please accept a cyber hug!
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