Light
I love days like today. Days when I just feel happy and content. When I feel strong and self-assured and ready to do anything.
Days when my love for my family swells in my heart. When I see Sheldon working outside through the window and hold Kadon up so they can see each other. Days when Grandpa comes inside and makes a beeline for his grandson.
I love when gloomy days don’t make for a gloomy outlook on life. When fires crackle and music plays in the background and the smell of coffee permeates the house. Days when clutter and unfinished projects don’t overwhelm me and make me want to hide in a corner.
I like today.
Today I feel happy and okay with being happy. Not every day is like this. Some days I am so happy it makes me sad. I’ve been terrified of giving off the impression that I’m over it. Of course I’m not over it. But I’ve found a new version of okay. I’ve been given a new source of happiness. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
I have come to a place where I can miss Rory and smile. It’s a strange place, walking in the valley of the shadow of death. But the hope of tomorrow, the knowing she is okay, happy, and healthy, brings light into the darkness. At first, the light seemed invasive, cruel, and unnatural. But eventually, eyes adjust and you can see all the things the darkness had been hiding. You come to love the light, to crave it, to miss it on days it doesn’t shine through.
I am coming to an understanding that some people are just never going to get it. They are never going to stop referring to Kadon as the first child or grandchild. But their insensitivity doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean Rory wasn’t my first child. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t count. It doesn’t mean we don’t miss her every day. Just like my smile doesn’t mean a part of me won’t forever be sad. My laughter, though now genuine and full of joy, doesn’t mean she is forgotten. It just means darkness doesn’t last forever. It means when you have God in your life, light always wins. Because sorrow may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.
I didn’t know if I’d ever find joy in my mornings here on earth. I knew one day, a morning bursting with light and happiness would dawn in Heaven. I think that hope and knowledge has helped me find happiness in the now. In the today.
Well. I didn’t mean to make myself cry. But I’m smiling through my tears. And if I have to explain that to anyone, there is no point in the explanation. I don’t have to explain. I’m finally realizing that other people’s opinions and thoughts about Rory do not dictate who she was, and who she still is. There’s freedom in that elusive thought. Freedom and happiness.
I’m always surprised where writing takes me. I sat down expecting to write a flippantly happy post. I love how words can take you into deeper waters and delve out the story in your soul.
Days when my love for my family swells in my heart. When I see Sheldon working outside through the window and hold Kadon up so they can see each other. Days when Grandpa comes inside and makes a beeline for his grandson.
I love when gloomy days don’t make for a gloomy outlook on life. When fires crackle and music plays in the background and the smell of coffee permeates the house. Days when clutter and unfinished projects don’t overwhelm me and make me want to hide in a corner.
I like today.
Today I feel happy and okay with being happy. Not every day is like this. Some days I am so happy it makes me sad. I’ve been terrified of giving off the impression that I’m over it. Of course I’m not over it. But I’ve found a new version of okay. I’ve been given a new source of happiness. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
I have come to a place where I can miss Rory and smile. It’s a strange place, walking in the valley of the shadow of death. But the hope of tomorrow, the knowing she is okay, happy, and healthy, brings light into the darkness. At first, the light seemed invasive, cruel, and unnatural. But eventually, eyes adjust and you can see all the things the darkness had been hiding. You come to love the light, to crave it, to miss it on days it doesn’t shine through.
I am coming to an understanding that some people are just never going to get it. They are never going to stop referring to Kadon as the first child or grandchild. But their insensitivity doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean Rory wasn’t my first child. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t count. It doesn’t mean we don’t miss her every day. Just like my smile doesn’t mean a part of me won’t forever be sad. My laughter, though now genuine and full of joy, doesn’t mean she is forgotten. It just means darkness doesn’t last forever. It means when you have God in your life, light always wins. Because sorrow may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.
I didn’t know if I’d ever find joy in my mornings here on earth. I knew one day, a morning bursting with light and happiness would dawn in Heaven. I think that hope and knowledge has helped me find happiness in the now. In the today.
Well. I didn’t mean to make myself cry. But I’m smiling through my tears. And if I have to explain that to anyone, there is no point in the explanation. I don’t have to explain. I’m finally realizing that other people’s opinions and thoughts about Rory do not dictate who she was, and who she still is. There’s freedom in that elusive thought. Freedom and happiness.
I’m always surprised where writing takes me. I sat down expecting to write a flippantly happy post. I love how words can take you into deeper waters and delve out the story in your soul.
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