Life kind of came to a halt the weekend we lost Ebenezer. It happened so suddenly right in the middle of Christmas. I realized pretty quickly that the household still carried on inspite of my grief. And the babies, being children, still wanted and needed the joys of Christmas. I needed them too.
As my home pastor put it after the loss of his babies, “my other kids kept pulling me forward.” I think that’s what it feels like for me. It’s a hard thing to mourn death when you’re surrounded by so much life. Hard because as much as I wanted to make the world stop, I had to keep getting up and pouring milk and making toast and sweeping the kitchen and zipping coats and folding laundry and holding babies. I didn’t do very much of that, but even the little I did took a toll and that week after, I’d find I could only maintain all the doing in short bursts. I could only handle the noise and needs of others in short amounts and I would need to retreat to grieve in the borrowed moments I could find to be alone and regain my strength. I’m so thankful for Phil who gave me so many of those moments.
But mourning has been hard in another way too. I found moments when it was not sadness I felt, but joy. There were times of laughter and true contentment with my other babies. For the next few days of Christmas we kept opening gifts, we kept singing Christmas hymns, we kept eating cookies and kept, as best as I could, to the Christmas activities I had planned for them. It was all a welcomed distraction and solace.
So in order that I don’t forget the simple joys in those final days of Christmas 2016, I’ll get back to posting what we did and take up where I left off.
On the fourth day of Christmas….
