Consolation

I am having a very hard time tonight. I am so sad about all that Lydia went through those last 2-3 months, and I cannot get the details of it all out of my thoughts. I go over and over it in my mind and my heart breaks.

Charlie and I went to the funeral of a dear friend’s daughter this week. This daughter, in her mid 40s, died suddenly of heart attack on Christmas Eve. The mother of this daughter is a close friend of mine. As I held this friend while she sobbed uncontrollable, I wondered at the difference in the natures of our grief. I had lost my child after watching her suffer loss after loss over many months; the last months being unbearably heart breaking. Her child was gone quickly, with no warning. My friend’s grief is intense, all-consuming; she is inconsolable. Mine has gnawed relentlessly, quietly in my heart for months. I had time to prepare though, to consider what my life would be, who I would be, when Lydia passed away. I made myself consider her death, her burial, and yes, her new life in heaven. I am so lonely for her, but the hard part for me now is remembering what that brain tumor did to my beautiful, beautiful girl.

This friend lives down the road from me. It is no coincidence that two of us here on this little hill have lost our daughters within two weeks of one another, is it? Help us, Lord, as we console one another.