Margaritas, Tears, and Tombstones

I survived my first week of work, and thankfully it was much better than I thought - save a few stupid comments. (A word to the wise: don't say, "Are you sure there isn't something wrong with you?" when trying to comfort a newly grieving mom.)

Thanks to all of you who were so supportive of me. I love how deeply you showed your concern for me and really wanted to know how I was doing. Honestly even the stupid comments have shown me how much you care. Your love and comforting words are like a balm to my soul.

I am so glad I went back to work on a Wednesday too. I have learned that grief is exhausting. Even though I didn't do much actual work this week between catching up with wonderfully supportive coworkers and cleaning out my inbox, I found myself completely drained of energy. Thankfully the weekend came quickly.

Unfortunately, I am still having a lot of trouble sleeping. Though, I was given a prescription for sleeping pills, I try not to take them every night. I tried to forgo them last night since I was confident that I had a weekend ahead to rest, but I ended up enduring a frustratingly sleepless night.

I found myself in quite a exhausted, depressed mood this morning. Thankfully Matt is so intuitive at figuring out just how to support me in these moments and he brewed a fresh pot of coffee, made me breakfast, and turned on some encouraging music. With a refreshed spirit, we spent a wonderfully lazy morning together, sipping coffee, talking and laughing together, and catching up via phone with his parents in MN.

We finally took showers and washed the breakfast dishes 1:00 and Matt had the great idea of going to our favorite Mexican restaurant for margaritas and quesadillas. We had such a great time, and though we spoke several times of Isaiah, we did not find ourselves filled with sadness. Rather we found ourselves reveling in God's goodness and talking about the amazing people he has recently bonded us with.

After lunch, and a quick visit to the bookstore, we headed home to work on the finishing touches of Isaiah's tombstone - what a surreal task. As we scoured the Internet to find the perfect verse or phrase for his epitaph, the tears flowed. Were we really spending our Saturday designing a grave marker for our son? Saturdays used to be such carefree days for us. What happened to those days? I suppose this is all part of our "new normal."

Which has me thinking...lately I have found a new home in the Psalms. I identify so well with David. One second he is praising God, the next he is wailing in despair, yet no matter what he trusts in the unfailing love of the LORD. It isn't lost on me that our sons middle name is David.

1 comment:

  1. David is such a powerful picture of how I believe the Lord wants us to be with Him. Raw. Real. Bare. He wants us to express ourselves because, well, He made us who we are. I am confident that you will continue to find much rest in David's story and relationship with God. (if you can't tell David is one of my favorites too )