A year ago today, we sat beneath a green tent with family in
padded, covered chairs and me in a wheelchair. The tent gave us shade but not a
lot of relief from the July heat in South Georgia. And in front of us was a
casket, beautifully draped with yellow roses, holding the Earthly shell of my
beloved 18-year old daughter.
Since the accident on June 30 that altered the
trajectory of my world, memories, bad dreams, and tormenting thoughts have caused
the tears to flow on a daily basis.
I do not remember birds chirping or the noise of cars
passing by on the nearby highway as I do today sitting at the cemetery. The ground on top of the casket is now covered
with live and dead flowers where grass is beginning to crawl through the dirt
and weeds stretch up around her nameplate. Truthfully, I was probably too
medicated from surgery and my own injuries to absorb all the details of that
day.
I have learned since that time of others’ lives during that
horrid week last year. Many cut vacations short after hearing of the accident,
some left later than planned, some returned early, and some postponed it all
together. Tears were shed by many family
and friends who mourned the loss of Sophia.
Now after wiping away tears each day for a year, maybe I’ll
make it a day without puffy eyes, smeared mascara, and a pounding heart. Maybe
I’ll be able to put in contacts again without fear of them swimming away. Maybe
I can wear something other than tennis shoes with dresses. Maybe I’ll lie down
to sleep without dread. Maybe my nightmares will turn into sweet dreams. Maybe
I’ll wake up and not be in physical pain and can take a step without my ankle hurting.
During the course of this year, however, I have found myself
laughing again. I’ll catch myself singing around the house and in the car once
more. I have improved physically to the point I can work more hours, pull weeds
in the flowerbed and start more projects in the shop.
There is much relief that this year of “firsts” is over.
Yet, it is hard to imagine I will have to do the rest of this Earthly life
without her. Sophia is not going to make a cameo appearance at Christmas or
send me a sweet card at Mother’s Day. Life has changed, and I do not like it. I
want her back, which unfortunately is not an option.
So, I’ll trudge through, trying to take it one day at a
time. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days will be free of tears.
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes…”
Revelation 21:4
As a mother I cannot imagine how you feel, I know at times it must be overwhelming. I do however know this from hearing of your testimony and that of Sophia’s that you do have that blessed hope of seeing her again. That by no means takes the pain away but I hope gives you some comfort. You remain in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteThank you for continuing to pray for us!
DeleteLynda, I’ve thought of you these past few days. Thank you for this loving account of your reality that none of us can truly understand. It helps me process your pain and also recovery throughout this past year. God has a purpose and plan that none of us can explain. May he bless you and your family until you’re all with Sophia, together again. All of my love and affection (and hugs) for you.
ReplyDeleteYour words are always a comfort to me. Thanks for supporting me in my pain and helping carry me with you love.
DeleteI have just read your Year of tears and it sounds exactly how I felt at the end of the first year when I lost my Dustin! You will never be the same without Sophia, but God will be there every moment to carry you, encourage you and love you through out the rest of your life! Your grief is your friend and your enemy! I love you and your family and think about how you feel during each time in your life that have changed since Sophia left you for heaven! She is your angel and know that she is watching all of you! Love, Sue Roberson
ReplyDeleteI didn't know you lost a child, Ms. Sue. This is NOT what I would want to share with another parent, yet your words means a lot knowing you share sincerely know the depths of these feelings. Love you!
DeleteLove y'all.
ReplyDeleteCasey and I loved Sophia dearly and the rest of her family so, so very much. We weep often and trust that the Lord will replace your sorrow with joy. Sophia was here on Earth for a short time but brought so much joy to the world. We consider ourselves so blessed to have known her, to have loved her, and to be loved by the Fishers. We will continue to pray for you all. We love y’all intensley!
ReplyDeleteYou are precious to me and were truly precious to Sophia. Thanks for your continued support!
DeleteLynda, Over the past year I have thought of you and the journey you face. For months afterwards, on Saturday mornings I would think of you and Sophia and how a normal summer morning changed everything. I have wanted to share with you a special moment for me at Sophia's visitation. When Momma, Nancy, and I got to the church there was quite a line outside the church. Which we had expected. Some of the church ladies came to Momma and had her go inside and wait for me and Nancy. So kind. The first people I saw I knew were Barbara and Richard Hollingsworth. I couldn't imagine how difficult this was for them. When the doors to the sanctuary, it took my breath away. The room was huge. The room was full, standing room only. The room was quiet. The music played with the beautiful photos of a beautiful life. The room was quiet. The room full of young people - they weren't talking; they weren't on their phones; many of their heads were on parents shoulders. As we moved forward row by row, to express our sympathy time moved slowly. The room was quiet. No one left early. No one complained. As the minutes turned into hours, we all moved row to row. No one left. No one complained. No phones. No chatter. In a time where we all complain when we have to wait 5 minutes. In a time where we are all in such a hurry. Sophia stopped us. Made us reflect about how fragile life is. Sophia slowed us down for a moment to put into perspective what is really important. It is a moment I carry everyday with me. Forever changed me. Will be a part of me for the rest of my life. Love you all. Laura Hannon
ReplyDeleteLaura, your family has always been so very special to ours and your words are so powerful. Many have shared with us how that summer they took more time with their children and spent more time with loved ones. It's unfortunate that sometimes it takes a tragedy to slow us down to understand what is important. You know heartache as well....and though we may never understand here on earth, I'm thankful for the hope of eternity with our loved ones! Love you, Lynda
DeletePrayers for continued peace and strength
ReplyDelete