Words left unsaid.
What do you do after the flowers have withered,
the hymns have been sung,
the stories told,
And memories shared?
When all have walked out of the church
And you are left with the pieces of a shattered heart…Left to do life as though nothing has happened.
Having lost my mom at the young age of 21, I felt completely lost and overwhelmed with so many feelings and emotions. No one can understand or come to know grief until the sting of death pours down on their life.
So many emotions were felt and so many fears engulfed my soul.Will I forget? Forget her smile, her voice, her laugh? Will I forget all that I learned from her? Will I get to a place of healing and be ok?
What if after the grief has passed and is gone, I forget her love? What if I forget everything I’ve learned through this journey to healing…And her death is all for not?
These questions and more are what lead me into a depression 2 years after my mom passed away from brain cancer. Too overwhelmed with questions and too scared to move forward- I was left stranded. Healing was a distant thought. And honestly, at times, I questioned if I even wanted the grief to leave. It made its home in me and became a comfort. And being healed would mean I was ok…and being ok, for me, meant being ok without my mom.
In an effort to not forget, I kept a journal in the midst of my grieving. It was this journal that lead me to deeper places, into the crevices of my broken heart. It was then that I began to mend and heal over time. There was so much grief within me that it went untold and unwritten until I took pen to hand and allowed my hand to do the talking. Slowly my grief unwritten became unraveled and known, and my heart mended.
My healing became a journey. A long journey that was, and is, a continuous one. But in it all, it was the hope that God continuously poured over me that strengthened my faith and soul….and in the end left me healed.