The Lord is close to the brokenhearted... Psalm 34:18
Two years ago I stood by your hospital bed, holding your hand and crying because I knew this would be the last time I'd see you this side of Heaven. Two years ago, I told you I loved you for the last time, combed your hair to one side for the last time, hugged you for the last time. Two years ago, you took your last breath and were eternally released from the pain and sickness you had suffered for so long.
Whoever told me grief gets easier - lied. Grief never gets easier. The only difference between the day you died and now is that I miss you more. I don't cry everyday and you're not in my thoughts every single second, but there are so many moments when the grief is like a knife in my stomach. I'll be doing the simplest of things and suddenly, remember you. Every birthday I cry, because you're not here to sing to me over the phone, and celebrate the passing of another year. Every Christmas feels wrong, because you should be here to celebrate. Every milestone is tinged with sadness, because you're not here rejoicing with me. And yet, for all my sadness and the many ways I miss you, I'm not sad for you. Because you are finally free. You lived trapped by sickness, pain, and emotional scars from war. You lived broken and hurting, and now, you are all that you were created to be. There's no more pain. There's no more hurting or misunderstanding or brokenness. There's no more guilt and there's no more bad memories of war times. For the first time, you are free - and I imagine it suits you. I can't wait to see you like that poppy. But it doesn't change how much I miss you. How much I miss combing your hair and hugging you and listening to your old stories. I miss your funny little quirks and the way you asked about my life and the way you always had some wisdom to share. I miss your jokes and your funny sayings, I even miss watching the football with you. I miss just knowing that you were there, that you were always there cheering me on. Grief doesn't get easier as time passes.
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in Your book... Psalm 56:8
The thing that sustains me is this: I have eternal Hope. Grief hurts, and I cry more tears from grief than anything else. But every tear has purpose, and every tear is known by the same God Who knows me completely. It's a testament of His Love for us - that He cares so much that He would keep every single tear we would cry. Though grief remains, so do God's promises. So does His compassion. So do His new mercies. His Faithfulness remains. and He is always, always enough. Grief may not get easier, but we have a way through it. So, when the missing you gets to be too much, Poppy, I'll run to a God Who just holds me as I cry. His Arms around me sustains me, gives me the strength I need to go on. His Word assures me that one day I will meet you again, and we'll have the biggest family reunion yet.
I love you, Poppy.