Posted on Sunday~February 1, 2009
From the archives of If Life is a Highway; originally posted 5/13/08:
Grief is a bit like being sucked into a vacuum. The brush has pulled you under and in, and by no doing of your own, you are swept away. You’ve entered a whole new space in time.
Everyone on the outside is going about business as usual. You wonder why they don’t seem to notice that you’re covered in dust.
I suppose this hateful grief is good.
It pulls you through.
Grief’s impact forces you to take a look at how you feel. It pushes you through the sadness that would overtake you if you were left in the midst of your profound loss. The loss of a person, or a place, or a way of being that felt like home. There is an utterly unthinkable void, sucking you into a period of grieving.
Grief will not let you stay in the terrifying place you would have to stay if it didn’t exist…
Swallowed.
The churning inside and the rush of memories is too much to ignore. So you are pushed forward, heels dragging in the dirt, cries coming from the center of you, thanks to grief. No, you’ll never be the same. No you will never forget. No, you will never stop hurting. But you will move.
Because of grief.
You will press on, thinking the thoughts you might have been too afraid to think, and feeling things you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to feel without it. Grief brands an imprint of a lost love on your soul so you’ll never have to fear that you’ll forget.
Spend as much time in the vacuum as you need.
~For a beautiful tribute to the Whitt Family in photographs go HERE.~
~For a beautiful tribute by my friend Ron, go HERE~
THANK YOU to each one of you that came by, read my post for Tuesday,
and then sent your thoughts and prayers to her family.
I was blown away as I watched this beautiful domino effect,
an out-pouring of love and support for a hurting family,
spreading across the internet.
You guys rock. And so does Tuesday.
Please continue to send your love to the Whitt family.
The glory of it all. Thank You. We will see Tuesday again. Because You came.
{ 33 comments }
You are such a bright beacon of love and hope on the internet. Please never stop writing.
This is incredibly insightful! In the deepest part of my heart I echoed every word.
Beautiful, Heather. Thank you for letting us be a part of this.
When I saw your last post I realized that Tuesday and her twin were born two days after my own twins. I can’t imagine the grief that the Whitt family is experiencing right now.
Your writing is always so hopeful. This was lovely and insightful.
This hit home with me today, Heather. Thank you for sharing this.
I hope the outpouring of support and love provides the family with some relief.
Grief and I are well aquainted and your words are filled with such truth. If we let it, grief brings with it healing.
Love your heart for others!
I’ve been praying. Thank you for all you’ve done to help them. Bless your heart and theirs…
Steph
What a beautiful analogy. I’m going to send a link to this to my sister who also had the great misfortune of losing a child.
Very well written – thank you for posting this and shedding some light on Grief for all of us who sometimes have difficulty with the concept and reality of it…
This is by far, my favorite post of yours. You are wonderful.
Blessings,
Carolynn
Oh, Girl. I just came home from our Super Bowl party and clicked over to my blog, noticed you had visited, and then hopped over to Tuesday’s blog. My heart is going out to them as are my prayers. I”m glad that she is in a better place, but still struggling with the “Why?”
I still believe God is good, I hope her mom and dad do too. Thanks for keeping us real.
oh goodness heather. here i’ve been out of it and involved w/ a sweet boy of mine who only has a cold. i’ve missed out on all this love and support. but i know prayers are always needed, so i will.
we sure all have a lot of questions when we get HOME don’t we?
hugs,
linda
“Everyone on the outside is going about business as usual. You wonder why they don’t seem to notice that you’re covered in dust.”
Good God you hit it right on the head. I was almost MAD reading all these other posts as of late, like it was business as usual.
You have completely and utterly described what I’m feeling at present, how deeply this hit me. It’s almost scary how much you and I are alike.
I don’t think I can even begin to tell you how grateful I am for you.
What a beautiful post and such a lovely thing you did.
You inspired me to follow and i will be doing the same thing on my blog from now until Tuesday.
Please stop by and leave a comment for the Whitts.
Thank you!
I think I love you…
Some things I can understand with my head, but not yet with my heart.
I can’t describe to you how this post has touched me. I have lost grandparents, I have been sad.
Thank you for this.
The song was WONDERFUL.
Beautifully said. Thank you for sharing the story.
Please stop over when you have a moment for an award at my place. Thanks.
“My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.”
–Emily Dickinson
How beautifully you said it, Heather. Much solace is found in your words.
You are an incredible woman with a big heart. I love that you posted and kept her in your thoughts and heart. I will be thinking good thoughts for the family.
I was just praying for this family last night, not realizing that Tuesday had passed into the arms of the Father. Lifting them up here…
Blessings~
What a great tribute to Tuesday and a sign of love for her family.
This whole story has just haunted me and this post really cut me to the heart but in a good way.
This is beautiful. It totally wraps up the verse I’ve been chewing on today, “blessed are those who mourn.” I didn’t know where to go with it, but you have put it into beautiful words. thanks.
Beautiful post. My heart mourns for that family – what a beautiful little girl…
Wow… that really does capture what it feels like. As usual, you have a gift for putting in to words the feelings that most of us can’t verbalize.
This is such a beautiful post. I love the vacuum analogy. I have always thought of it as sort of a protective bubble, but the feeling is the same…being in the world, yet completely separate as you watch it all go on.
One of the best books I have ever read on the goodness of grief is My Grandfather’s Blessings by Rachel Naomi Remen. You should check it out — you’d love it.
L.O.V.E. Crowder.
L.O.V.E. Crowder.
L.O.V.E. Crowder.
L.O.V.E. Crowder.
Thank you. Exquisite again.
Thank God for all of his mercy and comfort. May sweet Tuesday’s family be blessed with peace.
What still surprises me sometimes is the amount of grief evoked in me by reading a perfect strangers words.
"What do you do when you can't help the little bird?"
This question enunciates one of my greatest fears.
I hurt for her, even 8 months later.
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