Numb

I feel numb today. I wake up in the morning and as I try to wrap my head around the day - what day is it, what comes next, what do I have to do - there's always a point when I realize G is gone.

My counselor reminded me yesterday that he is alive with Jesus. I'm not sure how that truth effects my grief yet. There's less despair when I remember that his body is in the grave but his soul has never died. But maybe it also makes me ache more that his presence is here?

Oh to see him now! To see him whole. Free from sorrow, free from pain, free to breathe and rest! To see him as he was always meant to be - Jesus' work complete in his life and heart and soul. He must be so beautiful. The sin gone. The essence of him shining brightly because he has been transformed to be like Jesus.

But it's hard here.

Sometimes, like this morning, I wish I could cry. I feel like crying but it's like the tears are trapped way down deep inside. Sometimes I feel afraid that I won't ever be able to cry again. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to stop.

Grief is so different than I expected. Messier. More surreal. Hits in waves. Grief for me is numbness, anguish, relief, tears, nausea, that burning feeling in my chest like something is missing from my own body. It is memories and longings and just wanting to hear him walk down the steps in the morning and put down his cup and then give him a hug. It's no one to look at subtly when someone says/does something ridiculous. It's inside jokes that are gone - no one to share them with. It's dreams that won't happen. It is shock and how can he be gone and endlessly trying to piece together the events that led to his death.

He is gone from me and our son. He is with Jesus. Sorrow and joy. And most of all today - that numb feeling like grief is below the surface and could swallow me whole but can't even squeeze through the cracks.