Wednesday, September 2, 2009

September?!?

How on earth has it gotten to be September already? The month made its presence quickly known around here... cool evenings, almost brisk mornings, warm days with a nice breeze. A far cry from the hot, muggy, humid summers of the mid-Atlantic.

I remember turning the calendar to September last year... realizing it was the last time I would turn to a month where Isaac would be alive the whole time. How weird is that... to know that in September of 2008, Isaac would be with us. Through all of it. In my tummy, kicking away. And in October 2008, he would be with us for some of it... but not all of it. It would be the month where hello also meant goodbye... two words that should never be ushered in the same breath.

I remember sitting in counseling a few months ago talking with her (the counselor I see) about where I am in my grief journey, and she shared with me how grief is an incredibly sensory experience. At the time, it made sense to me in my head, but I didn't totally "get it." I had always thought of grief as an emotional thing, and a spiritual thing... but not necessarily a sensory thing.

These past few days, it has really struck me. The coolness of the air as I went for a run, the smell of pumpkin bread cooking in my oven... all of the things that start to speak of fall.

Fall.

When Isaac was born... and when he passed away.

This past Sunday when we visited the cemetery, it was a bit cooler than usual. There was this great breeze and I just remember thinking how much it physically started to feel like the days we visited the cemetery shortly after Isaac was buried.

I guess it's just hard for me to know that in 5 days, we'll mark the last month milestone since Isaac was born... then we'll be moving onto years.

Years.

Gosh, that sounds so long... so much farther than I want to be from my son.

I know this post is a bit random, and I am not sure if it even makes any sense. :) It's just hard to articulate the realization that the one year mark of your son's birth... and death... is dawning. And while I am so thankful for how the Lord has brought us through this and where He has led us, there's a part of me that wishes it wasn't all feeling like it was slipping so far away.

I suppose it's times like this that I am reminded, and am so thankful, that eternity is far greater than any distance that can be measured in months, years, or even decades.

28 comments:

Trennia said...

My dear friend been thinking about you and checking your blog often..(((HUGS)))

The Blue Sparrow said...

I get the whole saying that marking the time feels like a distance you are away from our little ones. I feel it too. I am putting off going back to work because it feels like Im leaving him behind or getting to far away from him or something. To a normal parent that might not make sence, but in our world of baby lost mamas it just is. I get it. And I agree with grief being a sensory thing. The fall is when Bryston should have been born so I will forever associate that with him as well as a cool day in the summer becuase it was such a cool week that he was born that it felt like fall. Sorry for the long comment, but you totally make sence here. Hugs.

Daddy's Dream ~Mommy's Miracle said...

Your posts help me on days when I can't get Braxton off my mind. You have a way with words..all the things I want to say, but don't know how to say them. Praying for peace for you tonight.

Nicole said...

I'm right there with you. I hate how fast these last months have passed. HATE it. I am thinking of you as you navigate your way through this next month. Any ideas how you will celebrate Isaac's life on his birthday? I am torn in trying to plan the same thing for December.

Much love and prayers,
Nicole

Jorden and Kristin said...

i really really wish i could hug you right now. i am praying for you daily! you're on my heart in a heavy way tonight...please know that you're being thought of and prayed for! :)

Sharleen said...

Your post makes complete sense to me. I've been having these same thoughts & feelings as summer seems to be quickly turning to fall. I find myself in a similar situation approaching the one year mark, Sept. 15, of the birth and death of my daughter. I'll be praying for you.

Anonymous said...

over a year later, we, youre blog readers are still with you. I think of you, youre husband and Isaac daily. He is not, nor will ever be forgotten no matter how many years go by.

Desiree said...

Thinking about and praying for you and Spencer.

Kristin said...

My prayers continue to be with you. Thank you for continuing to share Isaac with us.
Kristin

This is the day! said...

Praying for you!

Franchesca Cox said...

So true. Eternity is far greater. Praise God for that hope

Lorraine-bo said...

In no way do I think I could understand your grief for your son, Isaac; but I do understand grief being sensory. It's strange how real, yet surreal it can feel at the same time.

Beautifully written.
The peace of God to you.

Lynnette Kraft said...

Hi Stacy,
I haven't been here in a while - but I just wanted to say hello and tell you that I had you on my mind.

I'm with you - time goes so fast. There's something about time moving after you lose a baby... you find yourself grateful for the time that brought some healing and somehow you wish the time wouldn't take you further away from the time you had with the child that you love. Strange emotions but it's all part of the road to a healed heart. I pray that your heart is continuing to heal more and more every day.
Love,
Lynnette

Tracey said...

Just remember....
Missing someone gets easier everyday, because even though its one day further from the last time you saw each other, its one day closer to the next time you'll be together..

Lynette said...

Your post made perfect sense to me.
Thinking of you and praying for you as Isaac's birthday approaches.
lynette x

The Morris Family said...

It is so true, no matter how long its been, our senses are heightened as particular seasons come and they relate to our children and when they went to live with Jesus.I just wrote a post yesterday about that as the fallish weather makes me think of my little Joel, his cancer journey began in the fall, his BD is close to fall, in 10 days.

Cindy

Chatty Cricket said...

Grief is sensory- it makes perfect sense. I have never lost a child, but here in the northeast September 11 was a beautiful, crisp clear Fall day, and I rarely can wake up on a day such as that and not be reminded. And for the longest time I couldn't watch a plane fly over a city skyline without feeling anxious. Sensory, all of it.

Someone recently told me that there is no concept of time in Heaven, isn't that wonderful? To know that here on Earth we can mark the days and years but that in Heaven those we love will never know how long it's been? They'll just turn their heads and there we'll be?

I don't comment on your blog often (but I read your words all the time!), and I'm SURE I've said this before but it's worth saying again, Isaac is SO blessed to have you as his Mother. You're such wonderful parents.

Sending you love.....

Tracy said...

All of your thoughts make sense to those of us who have lost a loved one. It has been 5 1/2 years since my husband/ my kids Dad went to heaven, and in one breath it seems like yesterday and in the other it seems as though it has been forever since we got be have him here with us!
Thanks for being such a blessing to those of us walking this grief highway!

Molly said...

Wow, that's interesting. Makes total sense though about grief being sensory. Sometimes when I smell certain smells it brings to the surface memories that I wish would stay hidden. I know memory is tightly connected with the sense of smell. This time of year always makes me think of high school and all I went through during those years.

I don't know what to say to make your pain any less but just know that I'm still thinking of you.

Bluebird said...

I think it makes perfect sense.

I want to badly to enjoy fall, it's my favorite season. . .the coolness, the warm food. . . but these things continuously catch me off guard with memories of *last* fall.

Thinknig of you.

Holly said...

I never thought of it as a sensory experience so that is really interesting to me and makes a lot of sense. I am glad eternity is greater too. I don't like the days and months slipping by so fast, especially when I know all the things I am missing.

Skatcat said...

What a beautiful, beautiful post. Stacy, you write so well. I am truly humbled in the face of your gift with words. My heart goes out to you as this bitter anniversary approaches.

The Writer Chic said...

I don't know what to say here that we didn't already share in today's email, so I'll just let you know I'm counting down with you.

Jacksmom said...

I think it makes perfect sense. I love reading your thoughts Stacy, and I love hearing about Isaac and while you and I have experienced motherhood very differently, the love you have for your child and I have for mine are very similar. You and Spencer are great parents, and Isaac is such a blessing, your family such an inspiration. We love you.

The Hull Munchkins said...

Your post resinated with me and prompted a comment, even though we don't know each other.

The feelings of fall will always bring flash memories of driving to the NICU to sit with my daughter while she fought for life. Day after day, my eyes blinded with tears.

She turned 6 yesterday and while we celebrated her birthday with thanks giving, we also wept, reliving all the struggles she has endured since that day. Now her special needs are more obvious and more heavy.

I know it's not the same as losing a child, but I feel grief in the Fall. Grief over what my child has had to go through, and continues to. Wishing she could see me, talk to me and understand how much she is loved.

sorry so long...
I hope you are able to heal a little more each day during this season of memories.

-Patty

Mrs. H said...

Sensory experience... for me, my loss occurred over Memorial Day. (This May was our first anniv. of his loss). As everyone was gearing up for picnics and beginning of summer plans, my thoughts were drawn back to my tragedy a year ago. I will never be able to attend a Memorial Day picnic without remembering our son.

KK said...

I continue to pray for your family. Praying for continued healing and peace of mind.
Blessings today and always,
Kaye
Matthew 21:22

Kelly @ The Beauty of Sufficient Grace said...

Praying still as the fall winds blow the memories in...