Life and Stuff

Tony got home on Thursday. His mom came home with him and I'm not sure how long she plans on staying. Probably till the memorial service is over. Speaking of which, it has not been discussed, let alone planned. But that's okay. I suppose it's been really difficult for Tony since we've been here for a week, testing life's waters without Raisa in it but his life has kind of been on hold. He said that it's like he's been underwater. It still hits me sometimes, that feeling of standing still while life goes on around me. It doesn't seem real sometimes, that she's gone and then I'll find something that was hers or that is where she left it and it hits me all over again, like she just died yesterday. As I've said before, it probably makes it more bearable that I haven't seen her since she got sick. I never saw her in a hospital bed, having a machine breathe for her or agonized over medical decisions or had to sit there and watch her take her last breath, knowing that there was nothing I could do to save her. I never felt the excitement of a parent, feeling her move around in my belly, or being so scared that she would be born in the ambulance because the Lord picked the stormiest morning in April for her to be born. My pain is a transient pain. My pain is for the moment as I've still got my own family in my future (Lord willing). Their pain will last for the rest of their lives. And while I'll miss her every day, my sorrow will fade to nostalgia, to be replaced by unspeakable joy when we're reunited in Glory. We may not remember who we were to each other here but our reunion will be joyful nonetheless. I fear that her parents will miss out on that day.
On the one hand there's this sense of urgency, to get the memorial service over so that there's some sense of closure but on the other hand it's hard to say good-bye all over again and since she was cremated, there is no rush to bury her. I guess we wait on her parents to be ready to say good-bye and I can't imagine the pain that even contemplating that generates. How do you plan a memorial service for the child you only met a year ago? How do you say good-bye to, not only her and all she meant to you but to all the hopes and dreams you had for her? I know they were already imagining her first birthday, her first day of school, her first fight with a sister, her first best friend, her wedding, her first child... I know they were because I was, and I wasn't even invested in her life like they were.
The best I can do is be an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. And through it all let the Lord's peace and faithfulness shine through so that all can see and desire Him too.

Night,
~Pam