Saturday, May 30, 2015

"Life is a pile of good things and bad things"

Last weekend I got a new brother-in-law.

(I'm doing these blogs a week late because of reasons.)

My sister-in-law married someone I've been friends with for... years.

It's all a rather beautiful story of God taking two broken people and very slowly opening their eyes to each other and the plans He had for them to be together. It really is just lovely.

But that's their story to tell, not mine. And they do it SO much better than I could.

The wedding was small and simple. The couple lovely. My anxiety through the roof. I am finding it extremely difficult to be around groups of people without feeling... smothered. Uncomfortable. Judged.

7 months in, and the grief of loosing Bennet is no less than it was the day we found out there was something wrong with him. We've only gotten better at carrying it. On top of that, I lost my grandmother the same day my little boy turned 2. So a lot of grief, a lot of pain, a lot of weight to carry around.

But the thing about pain and grief is, they don't make the happy things any less happy. I am THRILLED that my sister-in-law and friend are happily married. I really truly am.

But all that weight from all that loss makes the actual celebrating WITH people... hard. Especially when you're told "be happy, today is a happy day. Cry about sad things later." Then you just feel like an awful person because the sadness, even if you're trying to hide it, is just oozing out of you, and you feel judged for it.

I am happy. More than happy. But at the same time, I am also sad. Horribly horribly sad. And that doesn't go away just because something GOOD is happening.

Big occasions like holidays, birthdays, weddings, make me miss my baby more keenly than every day. Because he should be part of the celebration. He should have been crawling after his big brother, complaining about missing his nap, begging for milk, snuggling up on my lap, meeting all the long-distance family members. His dark head of beautiful hair a contrast to his big brother's curly blond locks.

The thing that, well, thrilled isn't the right word, but felt extremely special to me, was that my father-in-law mentioned Bennet in his "welcome to the family" speech. To hear my child's name mentioned, in such a public forum, and in such a meaningful way in that he is STILL part of the family this new person was entering, was so so special to me.

Hearing your dead child's name spoken aloud, having them counted, is priceless.

I did not make this.
But thank you to whatever Whovian did. 


  1. Scot and I were just talking about something similar in the car today. We were talking about how sadness and joy can (and should) co-exist. Both feelings are so conflicting that many people become uncomfortable and don't understand or don't want to deal with it. The belief is that people should suppress/ignore the sadness and it will go away. This is so untrue. You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers daily!


    1. I know that this concept is true, and I live it every day, I just don't think I have a real grasp of HOW. Or at least not how to explain it to other people. But yes, it is very very possible to experience complete happiness and joy and unutterable sadness all in the same day (or minute!) (fairly certain our whole family will be experiencing that with Grandmom's funeral this week, too, and all the happy reminiscing and being together, but still, SAD). It's a REAL job to work at not suppressing sadness around people who expect you to feel "better" though. Things I'm sure I'll be writing more about in the future!

  2. I think it is hard to explain to other people because everyone's experience is so different. You're right- I think we did experience that at the funeral! I found myself saying "It's so good to see you" and then I paused because it was such a sad reason to see people and I didn't want them to think that I didn't acknowledge or feel that.