Showing posts with label Losing You Before We Lost You. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Losing You Before We Lost You. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Tuesday's Trust - How We Grieve When Our Precious Child is Still Alive…







Tuesday's Trust

How We Grieve When Our Precious Child is Still Alive…






So often the people we love are in trouble much earlier than we may realize, and it’s when they are plummeting that our grief actually begins. As they are still alive, just like emotional hostages, we are forced to watch them decline and slowly destroy themselves. We feel impotent, helpless. In our book, we describe watching our children drown while we stand at the edge of the pool, our feet embedded in quicksand. And then, once they died, the experience was vaguely familiar, as though we had been watching it unfold as bystanders...

~written by grieving mothers in the book, Griefland




How do you put words on the unfathomable? How do you share what you have lived even while you were dying? It defies words. Only tears can communicate. 

Our daughter was on a downward spiral on a fast train to nowhere, only it seemed to have the speed of the mighty jet. We encouraged her to graduate from high school early so that she could get a new start, which she graciously did. She would be starting college early while her friends completed the final courses of their senior year, as she had enough credits to graduate early.  


I remember going to her Freshman Orientation a few days before her first college semester. The parents went to a series of meetings during the day while the newly Freshman students would be attending their own series of meetings. Then we would come together for some of the meetings. The day then culminated that night into a very special dinner in which the three of us, mother-father-and-daughter would dine with one of the professors amidst inspirational talks and singing. The poignancy of the moment was revealed when the singers came out with their inspirational song. Despite the public setting, tears flowed down my face as I recognized the grace of the moment and the inspirational song revealed this opportunity provided for my daughter to turn her life around. The tears flowed and flowed. No one said a word about them. What was to be said? Some things are better left unspoken. 

And, for that first semester as she would join her brother in this school, this very strong Christian university which had given him a second chance at life to which he had readily responded, our daughter also responded well to the opportunity. Upon sending in her course-work and her Scholastic Achievement Test scores, she learned that she had qualified not only for the Hope Scholarship just as her brother had, but that she would also be awarded the prized Presidential scholarship from the university itself. Her grades that first semester were wonderful; her new friendships blossomed; her relationship with her brother deepened as he felt he had his old sister, his real sister back. She was herself. She was humbled. She was happy. She laughed. She cried. She was authentic. Her lively sense of humor drew many people to her. She was even invited to join the school's female rugby team. She was getting involved and was thriving. Until the next semester when she didn't… 

Thus the first paragraph of this post, written by other mothers watching disaster form all around them even as they felt they were losing their very lively, bright, quick-witted children who seemed to have the world by the tail, right before their eyes as they watched them begin to suddenly plummet into the destructive depths of the netherworld, resonated with my devastating journey with my child. We were all "losing" our children before we lost them, and we could not seem to stop the madness, Even though we would try, with all of our hearts, but it was ultimately to no avail as we would watch their self-destructive course to its final culmination, to their demise. 

The only thing holding us together is that it is Not over. Not final. God has the final word. And His word is more powerful than all the evil forces put together. But we must wait to see it. And that is where trust comes in, That is where we are called to see with the eyes of faith, and know that God is good. Only He can redeem the time that the locusts have eaten. And He will. And He has. And our baby girl is with Him, once again thriving, and happy, and fulfilled, but this time for all eternity…











Picture, thanks to ~In Memory of Lost Loved Ones
Quote, from http://www.griefland.com/category/about-the-book/

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Wednesday's Woe - Weighted Down By the If-Only's...







Wednesday's Woe



Weighted Down By the If-Only's...



or



How do you call yourself bargaining with

"If Only's," when you really

STILL don't know the SOLUTION

(that would have changed everything),

and wouldn't recognize it if it

were STARING you in the face?







On Saturday before "Father's Day," as we were facing yet another holiday without our precious Merry Katherine, when I saw the tears on the crushed face of Tommy, I found myself immediately wracking my brain,



What could I have done to stop her from her self-destructive path so her daddy wouldn't have to feel this pain?!






When I later told Tommy what my thinking had digressed to, he observed,




You think if you could find a way to fix it, IF you could have just done something differently, you think you THEN could control the outcome and wouldn't feel so helpless...






I guess this is my bargaining still going on... I was thinking,




If I somehow could have nipped her first drug-taking in the bud, or made her change her friends, maybe this wouldn't have happened...!






Get Real.



Nip the drug-taking in the bud?



I certainly hope I did not under-react; we tried to establish the importance of having very clear boundaries - Stay away from drugs!


But in looking back, do I really think I could


"Nip the drug-taking in the bud?"




Better think again, as initial over-reaction by overly-controlling behavior could possibly push a teenager right into doing something just TO rebel (e.g., just for the sake of individuation from mommy, for one!).





Make her change her friends?



At the time, I could understand her choice of friends - they certainly didn't seem to be out-and-out criminals: They were risk-takers like her; they were physically-active, vivacious, fun people!


The people I had thought were "nice" people turned out to be stuck-up twits, in love with their own self-righteousness. She could smell that pretension miles away (and if that's who they really were, I'm glad for her discernment). And now, after her dabbling into m.a.r.i.j.u.a.n.a? They would certainly think they were "better" than her...





I can just hear a little self-righteous, pompous twit, with a hidden sin like say, an addictive eating disorder (i.e., NONE of us is perfect!), justifying herself to herself:



Marijuana?! Why, that's unacceptable! But my hidden eating disorder... No one knows, so it doesn't count. I can still hang with the self-righteous. I might even have a chance of being a LEADER of the self-righteous since I don't have a shadow-side to speak of...




...justifies the addicted, eating-disordered Pharisee to herself...








If that's who they really were...unloving Pharisees (Or was this the rationalization of a child already headed toward addictive, "stinking" thinking?),


I wouldn't have wanted to be friends with them either...


So really, we couldn't win...







Real kids with real problems OR "so-called" Christians who thought they had no problems (i.e., Pharisees who'd say,"Lord, thank you that I am not like that despicable sinner over there...") —



Even Jesus was disgusted with the latter and sought out the former.




He made it clear that living by the "letter of the law" within our own power is deadly. Legalism kills... (It certainly does, spiritually-speaking, which, in my opinion, is THE most important aspect of our lives, more important to our Savior than earthly life itself...)





And yet, it was a No-Win situation.





She was repulsed by the


unloving-folks-who-"called"-themselves-Christians, but-who-detested-the-very-people-she-cared-about, her "Jesus-on-the-street."






And yet, her choice to hang out with this other kind of friend was what ultimately...killed her...











Picture - http://twitpic.com/url2z thanks to Lilly Ann


Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Wednesday's Woe - Picking Up Pieces






Wednesday's Woe


Picking Up Pieces





In the middle of "tough love"

With my rambunctious baby girl,

Raising the bottom, not enabling,

So she could be safe in this world...



Now we're left picking up pieces

As the bottom fell out,

Our baby snatched away,

Without e'en a mommy's shout.



How are we to "go on"

When our hearts have dropped out?

Our baby girl's not here,

So what's our life about?



Damned if you do, damned if you don't,

Nothing we did seemed to help.

And yet Lord, she's with you

Though I whimper and yelp.



"Speak to her soul," You said that night.

I knew "her flesh" could not hear.

I spoke out of love; she did respond,

And now her spirit draws near...





***




My sincere condolences to grieving mother Katie Allison Granju whose 18-year-old son Henry died on May 31, 2010 from an apparent drug overdose and assault during a "drug deal gone bad." Evidently, this poor family is suffering repercussions even beyond their child's death as they feel the local authorities are not investigating thoroughly the death of their loved one...


Although the following fellow-blogger (http://mamapundit.com) lives in the vicinity of my own home of Knoxville, Tennessee, I did not know her and did not know about her son's death until I read about it in The New York Times' article yesterday, where there were subsequent comments by some of the Times' readers regarding Ms. Granju's public self-disclosure (on her blog) of her struggles with her son's addiction process, a harrowing process which ultimately led to his recent emergency hospitalization in which it was discovered he had severe brain damage.


When I read these New York Times comments regarding this mother's heart-breaking trauma, I was absolutely appalled. Many of these folks were downright denigrating in their view of her efforts to love her child in what is often a no-win parental nightmare of a child's drug abuse. In response to their many judgmental remarks (which were all over the map regarding what they felt she should have done), I flashed back to our own no-win dilemma in loving our baby girl amidst her own battles, and then wrote the above poem. You can read more about Ms. Granju's story in the Times article, http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/03/parenting-an-addicted-child/




Here is a June 2 post describing the events leading to Henry Granju's death from KnoxNews.com (the online version of the Knoxville newspaper, Knoxville News Sentinel) in their news post of June 2nd, 2010:


The Knox County Sheriff's Office is investigating the drug-related death of a Knoxville blogger's 18-year-old son, who died Monday.

In an online blog entry, Katie Allison Granju confirmed the death of her son, Henry Louis Granju, who had been in intensive care at the University of Tennessee Medical Center following an assault and subsequent drug overdose he suffered in April.

Katie Allison Granju is the director of digital and social media for Ackermann Public Relations. He also is the son of Chris Granju, Knox County's Director of Stormwater Management.

According to the Sheriff's Office, as well as a family member's account, Henry Granju was beaten and robbed by three assailants during an attempted drug buy in the parking lot of the Bi-Lo market, 2230 W. Governor John Sevier Highway, on April 26. Family members say a tire iron was used in the assault.

The attack left the victim bleeding from his ears, with a broken jaw, broken ribs and brain injury, said Robert Allison, Granju's uncle.

Allison claims Granju's injuries were complicated by a dose of methadone he was given later the same night by acquaintances, who didn't call E-911 on his behalf until the next morning.



Our prayers go with this grieving family,











Picture: "Being Taken Apart" by Charlie Lucas thanks to Joanna Cravey Hutt at http://spittingrits.blogspot.com/

Poem - Picking Up Pieces - Angie Bennett Prince - 6/8/10

http://mamapundit.com - blog of Katie Allison Granju

http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/03/parenting-an-addicted-child/
http://www.knoxnews.com/

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Tuesday's Trust - Loss





Tuesday's Trust

Loss





Love

is so rare, any such handful of ash

holds the whole world's weight.



~Mary Karr





******




The following poem, written by Mary Karr, with change of adjectives and gender could describe my own experience...





ENTERING THE KINGDOM

~Mary Karr



As the boy's bones lengthened,

and his head and heart enlarged,

his mother one day failed



to see herself in him.

He was a man then, radiating

the innate loneliness of men.



His expression was ever after

beyond her. When near sleep

his features eased towards childhood,



it was brief.

She could only squeeze

his broad shoulder. What could



she teach him

of loss, who now inflicted it

by entering the kingdom



of his own will?





******





...When is it late enough to write about our loss, in a way that can be redemptive? Perhaps, like Milosz...





Late Ripeness



Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year

I felt a door opening in me and I entered

the clarity of early morning.



One after another my former lives were departing

like ships together with their sorrow.

And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas

assigned to my brush came closer,

ready now to be described better than before.



I was not separated from people, grief and pity joined us.

We forget—I kept saying—that we are all children of

the King...




~Czeslaw Milosz













Quote, Mary Karr, from poem, "A Tapestry Figure Escapes for Occupancy in the Real World, Which Includes the Death of Her Mother," Mary Karr, Sinners Welcome, p. 43

Poem, "Entering the Kingdom," Mary Karr, Sinners Welcome, p. 32

Poem, a portion of the poem, "Late Ripeness," by Czeslaw Milosz, as quoted by Mary Karr in Sinners Welcome, p. 93