Just Call Me Mara

I am not sure what it is about the human condition that causes us to seek out others like us.  For me, I find some solace in the idea that others are going through or have gone through what I am going through.  We have a commonality that binds us.

 I have done a lot of searching, reading and talking in the last few months.  I found a group of friends that understands what is like to have a bad day for no other reason than you are grieving.  No words of motivation have to be spoken in this circle, just the awesome awareness and intimacy that someone gets it, and it is okay.  I have read a lot of information and people's stories and found tremendous comfort in knowing I am not the only human being such a tragedy has happened to.  As I have said before, I am not writting this blog for sympathy.  I do not need it.  It is what it is, and the whole idea here is to move forward.  I am stuck.  Spitting these words out may just be the thing to get my wheels moving again. 

In my reading I came across the story of Naomi in the Bible.  I am a Christian, so this should be of no shock to my friends.   It is a true story.  It happened.  I take great comfort in that.  You want to know why?  It just goes to prove that my condition of grief and loss has been going on for thousands of years.  There is documented evidence, and you know what?  These people were able to find life and happiness again.  So there is great hope that I will too.  Life may not ever be normal again, but as my dear friend Marilyn says (yes, that's her real name), you find a new normal.

 Naomi's husband and two sons died.  Look at what she said:

"Don't call me Naomi (which means pleasant)," she told them. "Call me Mara (which means bitter), because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.   I went away full, but the LORD has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The LORD has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me."  Ruth 1:20-21

I have to admit, sometimes I feel this way, like you should call me Mara, "bitter".  (Hypothetically speaking of course.  I mean you can still call me Tabitha, which ironically means graceful gazelle.  Laugh amongst your selves now.  Graceful was never one of my qualities)  I went to hospital with 3 babies inside, and came home with a plastic box of ashes.  I get what Naomi was saying.  She even goes on to say the Lord had afflicted her and brought misfortune upon her.  Man, do I feel like that too, and I am glad to know that a Godly woman felt that way as well.    

Here's the thing.  I know all this anger I feel is just a stage.  Just like Naomi, my life will go on.  She struggled for a while.  She had a wonderful daughter-in-law by her side, like I have great friends and family.  She struggled.  I have and will for a while too.  In the end, she found favor and a new life, and I will as well.  

In any one day, I can run the gamut of emotions from peaceful, sad, depressed, laughing, loved, hated, alone, supported and the list could go on.  Some days, I will be honest, I do not feel like going on.  I think this is normal for someone who has lost a child.  I am not suicidal, but, I just feel empty some days.  For those of you who have children, just step back and think of them dying, and how you would feel.  Some days the emotional fortitude is just not there to want to go on.  Those are the days you have to push forward, or like me on some days, eat a lot and sleep...hence my last post.

I have felt like Naomi for about 2 months.  I am hoping it won't last too much longer.  I have hope it will not.  I've got God on my side. 

My tiny Jackson's precious hand.