Friday, January 4, 2013

2013

So, two years ago today, I was looking ahead to the new year 2011, finishing up Christmas break projects, getting ready to go back to work at school.  We still held on to hope that God would work a miracle in Sara's body and rid her of cancer.  She had gone back to school to start her final semester of college.  HOPEFUL was our buzz word for the new year.  Two years ago this weekend Sara ended up in the Salem hospital, having two liters of fluid drained from her lungs, and ultimately being care-flighted to San Francisco.  Two years ago this coming week her team of doctors at UCSF told us that her cancer was back full force and any treatments they could offer would only buy her a few months at best.  Those few months between January and May were some of the most difficult, and also some of the most precious.  I thank God for every single one of those days we had with Sara.

Now, two years later, and eighteen months after Sara's death, it sometimes feels like I should be willing to put those memories aside, and just focus on the future, being thankful for what God has given.  I know that many, many others have experienced similar losses, or worse, and I know that God has been very gracious to me and to my family.  It is hard to explain how you can be fine on the outside. . . . go to work, go to church, go about all your normal life routines. . . . and just feel nothing on the inside.  I sometimes hear the phrase "moving on", and I get that.  Life continues, and we all have to keep moving forward in the journey God has for us.  But here is an honest glimpse of my heart. . . . I don't really want to "move on".  I recognize that what I want is to stay close to memories of Sara.  There is probably a bit of. . . "if I refuse to move on, maybe I'll wake up one morning and it will all go away. . . like a bad dream".   If you believe in the stages of grief. . . would that still put me in the denial stage?"  I don't really think so. . . . but I think I weave back and forth between those all those stages. . . and I think probably most people do. 

I don't really know why I am blogging all this, other than perhaps to apologize to friends and family for seeming to be so "distant".  I don't know exactly why that is, but that is usually how I feel. . . just distant.  My desire this year is to focus on loving God and trusting Him.  Hopefully that will open up my heart to a better outlook, a better attitude, and a more giving spirit.

266.  Grace
267.  Forgiveness
268.  The aroma of turkey soup
269.  Les Mis with Woody
270.  The power of music
271.  Days off of work
272.  A job to return to
273.  Kids and grandkids
274.  Sunshine on snow
275.  Coming in from the cold
276.  A quilt made of Sara's t-shirts
277.  Hope

5 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing your heart, Noreen and you just blog away! NEVER put your memories aside, but keep making new ones. As for being distant, maybe you just feel that way and others don't notice at all, but understand. Even other mothers who've lost a child won't grieve exactly like you do, and yes, grief isn't linear. Be patient with yourself. It's OK. Did you love Les Miserables? I think I'd still rather hear a buttery voice from Valjean, but the acting was brilliant. <3

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  2. I never had the privilege of meeting Sara in person, but I taught at Corban from 2008-2012 and knew many people who knew and loved her. I followed the CaringBridge site and regularly continue to read this blog because your writing and honesty inspire me. I can't imagine your loss, but feel like I better understand how one trusts God as they walk through the valley because of your words. Thanks for being willing to be vulnerable and share with us. I will continue to pray for God to uphold you with His strength and peace as you trust in Him.
    Angela

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  3. No need to apologize for your feelings. Sharing what comes from your heart is a gift. It has been such an encouragement to me. Your blog has touched so many. I just want you to know that Sara's friendship is treasured by my son Austin. He attended Corban the same time as Sara. I will continue to visit your blog as long as you post. You and your family are being lifted up in prayer.
    Thank you,
    Terri Davis

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  4. Noreen; I just want to tell you that I appreciate your honesty in baring your heart. I only met Sara once (in the hospital when we were there for my son's check-up), but I missed the chance to meet you. Sara was such a sweet young woman. Please never apologize for what you say. My son is still alive, so far, but he is battling the same cancer that took Sara from you. They have told us that, baring a miracle, we will outlive our son. I just so appreciate your openness and honesty as you share your heart. God bless you as you wait until you are reunited with Sara in Heaven.
    Kristi (from Carson City)

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  5. I never thought that I would fully understand what it is to feel pain like you have. I know now how your heart feels and I pray that in the moments of darkness I can remember to see the light. I want you to know how often Sara is spoken of. She touched so many lives I don't know that you are aware. Just in the few months that I have been back in Nevada most everyone I run into brings her up and the memories they have of her. Praying for you and your family.

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