When It Hits Again

I knew it would be a difficult day before I even got out of bed this morning. We had a virtual Meet the Teacher scheduled for our youngest. He is transitioning out of a school where he has rolled around the halls for six years. Now, he will be entering a new school. New teacher. New assistants. New routines. New everything. Oh, and did I mention all of this is in the middle of a pandemic, when everything has changed and nothing is traditional?

But I’m ok with change. And he will love the change, truth be told. I knew today would be hard because I would come face to face, once again, with how different Johnnie is. How different it feels to enter a self-contained, third grade, special education class in the middle of a typical elementary school.

And then comes the grief.

Grief is a fickle thing. It comes uninvited and at the most unexpected times. A wonderful nurse told us, nine years ago when we found out about Jonathan’s diagnosis, that grief would ebb and flow through the years. No truer words have ever been spoken. Grief wells up inside and bursts forth without a word of warning. And the simplest of things can trigger it. Sometimes I catch myself looking intently at our beautiful and unique son, and my throat catches, and yes, the tears come–for all that he is and all that he isn’t. And then my girl #2 looks at me and starts crying right along with me. Oh, her tender heart.

And grief is unending. There is no timetable. I suppose a person could grieve a change for a season, but if you have known loss… then your heart grieves, without end. Much like the steady movement of the waves upon the sand. Sometimes the waves move with a passionate and fierce rhythm; sometimes they move in a calm and leisurely way. But the waves always come.

I used to stuff those feelings down. Stay busy. Do the next thing. Not anymore. Not nine years in. Now I cry. I pray. I scream. I scribble in my journal. I hug. I dance. I sing. I feel. Because I know that joy is possible, even when grief comes. I did try to put this into words last year. Here’s my feeble attempt:

There is a sadness I call friend.
She comes and goes at her whim.
The years have brought us ever close,
Though reluctant was my heart at first.

There was a time she was by my side,
And never wandered far and wide.
A time I also pushed her away
Because my fears held great sway.

She will at times appear unbidden,
Though, try I might, to keep her hidden.
When I do reach out and call,
She's sure to come and give her all.

Now we have an arrangement made.
In the shadows, she remains,
Ever present, yet not seen,
Only perceptible to the most keen.

There is a place for joy and sadness
Within the heart of those who trust
In a Lord Who holds together
All things within His sovereign tether.

I grieve while placing my faith, my hope, my trust in a Sovereign God. He works all things together for our good and His glory. Do I always understand this? No. But I know that I am tethered to Him. And if the grief never goes away or follows me all my days, I still hold His joy in my soul. And He is enough. I do pray this is what others see when they look at my life, a complete mix of joy and sorrow as I’m passing through to eternal glory!