Friday, March 13, 2009

Whats in Your Closet?

Have you ever cried watching Elmo? Ok...it sounds so silly. And yet one day I sat watching TV with my kiddos. Elmos World came on and a flood of memories hit me of a sweet little boy. When he was 2 Joshua absolutely loved it. "Da da da da, da da da da....Elmos World." He would sing it in his cute little voice. Silly kid. He was so cute. So I sat watching Elmo with tears pouring down my face while my living children wondered why on earth I would ball over Elmo.

Grief is funny like. It hits you when you least expect it. The missing of your special person is always there just under the surface. It only takes a thought or memory to bring it back up to the surface for all to see again before you stuff it back down again so you can function like a "normal" person. Even when you stuff it down, its not gone. Its just hidden like when you ask your kids to clean their room and you go to inspect it. It looks great. Wonderful job you say...
...And then you open the closet!
Everything falls out on top of you. Not really clean...just stuffed in a compartment to look good. When more painful memories creep up you open the door and throw them in really fast and close the door so everything doesn't fall out on you. Every once in awhile the closet becomes so full it is in danger of bursting open. You have to open up the door and deal with the memories, hurts, and pains trapped inside. You sort through them. Feel the pain and hurt. Cry and remember. Wonder why all over again. Scream that it can't really be true even after almost 2 years. Miss your sweet boy and think about all the wonderful memories you have of him. Pray and ask God to give you the comfort and grace you need to continue to live daily for Him. Organize your closet so the pain won't burst open and break the door completely down. Then you close the door and go on with life again for awhile. Always aware of the pain and hurts. Not gone. Just tucked away for the moment.
What pains and hurts are locked in your closet? What do you keep under your surface demeanor? Waiting to surface when you are tired or stressed? When you don't have the strength to hold the closet door closed any longer?

8 comments:

Amanda said...

What a truely perfect metaphor. Mine of course is my dad's death and that has been 20 years! We're supposed to fill those holes with His love but it's difficult sometimes since we keep shoveling him out to peer into the darkness. I think we're scared to forget, the smells, the voice, the memory, and that's why we keep it at the surface. I don't know. Grace to you as you deal with this today, tomorrow, and on. "I will praise You in this storm"

Susan said...

Your post brought tears to my eyes. I've never lost a child so I cannot even imagine the pain. Of the painful things I have had to deal with in my life, we all have some you know, I've found that while we never forget we do gradually heal. I know you will because HE carries our sorrows.
Susan

KELLY said...

Sally, so true about the closet. I found my closet of Mom opened up yesterday....Waaahhh! So glad we have so many wonderful, kind, funny, good memories though. At least our hurt and grief can be bittersweet instead of all dark and miserable. So many people have to deal with such bitter memories of pain that was inflicted on them by the ones that have left. Our family has always been close and not tried to hurt each other like so many others. Praying for you and wondering about your imaging class. How'd it go?
Love Always, Kelly :D

Lissa Lane said...

Grief truly is strange. I've been breaking down over weird things lately.

I wanted to let you know though that I've got a new blog so you will need to update your list if you still want to keep in touch

http://2feetonearth1inthestars.wordpress.com/

Sally said...

Yes I will update my list. I will go check out your new blog. :)

tsduff said...

I have closet with lots of things inside - and I keep it shut as often as possible. Shut tight. You know, I've got God locked up in that closet too - and it is to hard to deal with it, so I just don't anymore.

I'm wearing a shirt that belonged to Bernard. I just washed it for the first time since his death nearly 5 years ago - it had still smelled like his Aramis cologne. Hard to let go.

LegalMist said...

You really described the grief perfectly. I can go along for months with the pain stuffed inside, then - wham - it hits me like an avalanche. Some days I still can't get my head around the fact that my friend, her husband, and her two year old daughter are gone forever.... Even that can't compare, though with the pain of losing your own child. I am so sorry for your loss.

rickismom said...

I reached you through the black boxes...
Thank G-d I have never lost a child (my husband did...), but I have had other challenges.A special needs daughter, and a ruined marriage due to mental illness and addiction (still married, but ruined...)... and the metaphor is PERFECT.Yes, sometimes that closet door gets unlatched and floods me.....