A Lifetime Of Loss

When I was 14, my Mama and Daddy sat me and my two sisters down in our living room to tell us that my Daddy had a brain tumor. I could not have known just how much those words were going to change my life, but they did. My Daddy had a biopsy that ruled his tumor as cancerous, a stage 4 glioblastoma if I am correct. He underwent Chemo, radiation and tried several experimental drugs through Duke University. Eventually, my Daddy got tired of all of the medicines and the sickness that he felt because of them and decided to just live however much more time that he had, feeling as best as he could by not trying anymore experimental drugs. He could not use one side of his body and his speech was almost non-existent toward the end. On January 28, 2002, my Daddy died in our living room, with my Mama by his side.

My Daddy's battle with cancer and his death has shaped my life over the past ten years. I have known pain that most teenagers that I know do not. I saw face-to-face that death is always lurking in the shadows and it comes when we least expect it. I have had to walk down the 50 yard-line for Homecoming with my brother-in-law, instead of my Daddy. I had to walk down the aisle without him there as well. So many things that I always dreamed he would be a part of, he was not...at least not in the physical sense. And while all of this sucked at the time....I mean, really sucked...I knew that God was using my Daddy and my family to bring glory and honor to His Name. And that was comforting, even though the sadness and hurt were there, I was comforted.

Fast forward to January 28, 2012. I always anticipate this day. I always know that it is not going to be a great day. I will be sad and I will let myself think about everything that happened with my Daddy and my family. This was no different this year except for the anger. Looking back now, I feel like I must have known deep, deep down that my baby boy, my Jonah was not going to be okay. I had already spent the past several days trying to figure out why Jonah was not moving. I remember sitting in church that night, on January 28 and just being mad. I was mad thinking about how my Daddy and my Papa (another precious soul, gone too soon from me) would never get to see Jonah. I was mad that they would not be there to see my first child and to "ooo" and "aaahh" at him. I remember getting up to go to the bathroom during the music part of the service. The whole time walking there and back to my seat, I just had this anger swelling up inside of me. And then, the following day I would find out that Jonah's heart was not beating...and that a different kind of anger would not go away from me.

Since I lost Jonah, I have found a new kind of peace about my Daddy's death, and my Papa's for that matter. I don't long for them to be here anymore. Or is my longing for Jonah so strong that I cannot sense that longing for my Daddy and Papa? I am not sure but I am sure of this: despite the hurt and sadness of losing my Daddy, and losing him the way that I did, it does not even compare to this loss that I feel for my Jonah. Not that grief is meant to be compared, because it is not. Now, I will say this: I have felt anger towards my Daddy in losing Jonah. I am angry that he was so selfish as to take my baby up to Heaven with him...I mean he has pretty good company up there as it is, couldn't he quit hogging everybody :)!

This journey of loss is so much more different, though. In losing Jonah, I have lost who I ever was. My relationships - everyone of them - have changed, a few for the better but most of them for the worse. I have lost the body that I should have appreciated! I have lost my patience, my drive and my desire for so many things...I have lost so much more than I could ever put into words on a blog post. I am bitter and I am afraid that I always will be. I am mad and I'm afraid that will always stick around as well. This sadness that I feel, well we all know that it is definitely here to stay, too.

The difference for me, Daddy's death vs. Jonah's death, is that with Jonah's I can not see how God is or is going to use it. People will forget...I will not. People will wonder why the sadness in my eyes...I will know the reason, but they won't. So, I find myself wondering if this was a lesson in faith and in life that will only have lasting effects on me and Aaron...and maybe those close family members that let it? Couldn't He have taught me or gotten my attention in a different way? Am I that hard of hearing that He had to shout at me? Or am I just not supposed to be able to hold onto the men (or boys) that come into my life for long? If that is the case....I'm heading to get Aaron right now! If I hold him down, maybe he can stay for longer than I am allowed...just maybe.