When you lose someone you love, your life becomes strange. The ground beneath you becomes fragile. Your thoughts make your eyes unsure, and some dead echo drags your voice down where words have no confidence. Your heart has grown heavy with loss and though this loss has wounded others too, no one knows what has been taken from you.
I never knew the meaning of true heartbreak, I never knew I could be so lonely, I never knew my life could change so much, I never knew my heart could hurt this way, I never knew I would still be here without you, I never knew such extreme pain. I never knew until God took you. What I do know is that I miss you! I miss you in ways that not even words can understand.
They say everyone is afraid of dying, but when you lose one of your children, you become afraid of living. Because living without one of your children is the closest thing you get to hell on earth.
But I must believe that you still exist somewhere. That you still watch me sometimes, that you still love me somehow. I must believe that life has meaning somehow. That I am useful here sometimes, that I make slight differences somewhere. I must believe that I need to stay here for some time. That all this teaches me something. So that I can meet you again …… somewhere.
Interesting enough, when I look at the map of our hometown, the hospital where my children were born is situated in one of the main roads leading to central town. Driving in the opposite direction to the N1, which is the main road that will lead you to the most Northern and Southern part of my country. From the hospital driving towards the N1 approximately 3km, you will find the University’s sport grounds where my precious daughter passed away. From that exact place, you proceed towards the N1 a further 3km, there you will find our church where we held my precious daughters memorial service. Six kilometres, on the exact same road, I experienced my greatest joys and my most heart-breaking life altering and life changing events.
In my post – ‘A Pair of Shoes’ I wrote the following: ‘’I have always been fascinated by babies’ feet and have a habit of always wanting to touch their little feet. I always wondered which path my children would walk on this earth, and the crossroads they will encounter during their lives. Symbolic, our precious daughter was running into Heaven. How could I have predicted that it would be her little feet, which would take her to our final home? ‘’
My precious son, on the verge of adulthood, is starting to spread his wings. I am extremely proud of him. The path he will walk, will be a path to experience life, the good the bad and the ugly. No matter how we want to protect and help our children, this is life. Since the early days, I was at times an over protecting parent. It felt as if I could wrap my precious children in cottonwool to forever protect them from life as we know it.
Recently, my son and I went to visit our family in Pretoria. I had the privilege to experience the most beautiful sunrise in the early morning while my son took a nap. Appreciating the breath-taking sunrise, my thoughts were once again busy analysing. Sunrise and sunsets, the beginning of another day and the conclusion of it. That is life, everything has a beginning and an end.
What road are you on? Is it a road to be proud of?
You will survive and you will find purpose in the chaos. Moving on does not mean letting go. It is difficult to not question the scenery, but I believe it will be worth the road trip.
Because if you believe, signs turn up everywhere.
Kind regards,
Liesel