On Loss
As I sit here at this computer, trying to remember all the things I'm supposed to be doing, I find myself unable to focus. I came back to work yesterday after several days of grief and loss and I've gone through the motions of smiling and joking and pretending to care about office politics but inside I can't help but think, is any of this really important? How can anyone really care about any of this mess when the world has shifted so suddenly?
Of course the world didn't shift. Just the world I live in. The world my family lives in. Or maybe shifted isn't the right word. Knocked askew. Busted. Punched in the gut.
My uncle, Randy, died a week ago today. He's my mother's brother, the third oldest of the nine children in Mama's family. He was 62 and got suddenly and violently taken out by a massive stroke that ultimately rendered him braindead. And it hurts so damn much.
I can't bring myself to eulogize him right now because I'm still not ready to think of him as being gone. I posted the following to Facebook the morning before we made the good-bye trip to Jackson before they took him off of the ventilator. Back when I still carried hope that the doctors were wrong and he'd wake up, or breathe on his own.
Of course the world didn't shift. Just the world I live in. The world my family lives in. Or maybe shifted isn't the right word. Knocked askew. Busted. Punched in the gut.
My uncle, Randy, died a week ago today. He's my mother's brother, the third oldest of the nine children in Mama's family. He was 62 and got suddenly and violently taken out by a massive stroke that ultimately rendered him braindead. And it hurts so damn much.
I can't bring myself to eulogize him right now because I'm still not ready to think of him as being gone. I posted the following to Facebook the morning before we made the good-bye trip to Jackson before they took him off of the ventilator. Back when I still carried hope that the doctors were wrong and he'd wake up, or breathe on his own.
My family has had a rough time this week and we're staring down the road at the hardest day yet. We'll be traveling to say what will likely be a final goodbye to one of our own...my uncle, my mom's brother, my cousin's dad, and the love of Gail's life. It's heartbreaking and devastating and I think it's safe to say that we're all just completely gutted. If we had known that the last time we were all together would be the last time we'd ever be all together this side of heaven... maybe we'd have all hugged each other a little tighter. Loved each other a little harder.
As I look around my house I see evidence of what a wonderful, generous man my Uncle Randy is. There's hardly a room in this house that he didn't help me with...replacing light fixtures, installing faucets...heck, he helped move me into this house! Mostly he shared himself with me. That funny way he laughed, his ministry, the very visibly real and deep love he has for his wife and how proud he is of his son. How he'd call me sometimes to tell me a funny story about their cats and how he is one of the few people Libby just instinctively liked and trusted. I love him so much I even forgave him for being an Ole Miss fan!
My heart is heavy with this impending goodbye. My family...this crazy, amazing family God blessed me into means the world to me. Every aunt, every uncle, all 20-something cousins...my life is all the more richer because they are in it and to lose one of them...even though I know he will be rejoicing at our Father's feet...is a deep ache.
Please pray for Uncle Randy and pray for the Hudson family as we give this day over to God's will.
I love all of you.
In short, he was in the shower, preparing to head to the church for Vacation Bible School when my aunt, Gail, who has MS among other health issues, heard a thud. He'd fallen in the shower and when she finally got to the bathroom to check on him, she said he displayed the classic symptoms of a stroke. He was just conscious enough at that point to indicate to her that he wanted clothing to cover him. Fast forward to later that day, after the fire dept. arrived, after the ambulance had taken him to a local hospital and then to Jackson, he was no longer conscious and had developed a brain bleed. He would never wake up again.
I've suffered loss before. Two great grandmothers. Two grandfathers. Paw-Paw Joe's loss, especially knocked me for a loop but this was different. We saw Paw-Paw Joe's passing coming. He gave us time to adjust slowly and even then, the adjustment to the final loss was hard. But this...this sudden loss of a beloved uncle...maybe I didn't see him every day but every member of my family is woven so tightly into the fabric of my being...the suddenness feels like a major rip down to my very core. I can't imagine just never seeing him again. Never rolling my eyes at something goofy he'd say. Never seeing his name pop up on my phone again. Having him missing from every family photo from now on.
On top of the loss is this unbearable sinking pit in my stomach. This undeniable truth that this is just the beginning. I have seven more sets of aunts and uncles on that side of the family and more on my dad's side. I will know this loss again and again and again. And it almost makes me wish our families weren't so close. That I didn't have so many memories. That I'd never loved them this much. Because this first loss is deeper than I'd ever imagined it to be. And I haven't even let myself THINK of how deep the loss will be when it's a parent. Or my Granny. Or a sister. I can't even let myself imagine too much what my mother and her siblings must be feeling because I don't want to think what it would feel like to lose one of my sisters.
As I type this, Sis1 is on an airplane headed to Denver to be with my aunt out there who also lost her husband last night. My heart aches for my aunt. And it quivers at the thought of my sister being on a plane in one of the worst weeks of my life...at a time when God is taking so many of my loved ones from this earth. I want her safe at home even though I know my aunt needs her.
And up in the northern part of the state, my cousin, Uncle Randy's son, is preparing to have one of his kidney's removed. A surgery he was supposed to have this week but had to be postponed because he's not healthy enough to survive the surgery right now. The offending kidney is producing too many toxins and he can't sustain enough vitamins and iron.
And I'll be honest...straight up, no holds barred honest...
I've been a little angry at God these last several days. I had carried this peace about me all last week that God would heal my uncle and he would recover and it felt like a major betrayal when Mama called me Thursday night to tell me that he'd been declared braindead and would be taken off the ventilator. And as we stood around his bedside Friday to say our goodbyes and love on each other I was just...I was sad, yes, but also mad. I just couldn't understand...Why had God given me peace about it if He knew he was going to take my uncle? And would that also mean he'd take my cousin?
All day that day, though, I'd had MercyMe's song, Even If, stuck on loop in my head. At the time I'd taken it as a banner of hope, still, that the doctors were somehow wrong. That I should carry hope with me. It wasn't until later, after Uncle Randy slipped from this life and we held hands and prayed that I realized God was trying to tell me something else...That peace He'd given me wasn't because He was going to pull Uncle Randy out of that fire...He wasn't going to move this mountain but that I could still trust in him...that the hope I'd carried was valid because He would see us through this loss.
And it's only with this in mind that I know we will see our way clear through this grief and whatever else there is out there that we will face in the coming days, weeks, and years. It will be hard. I still grieve at this loss and at the thought of future losses. But He will not leave me. I can still trust Him.
That being said, any prayers you have to spare, please send some up for us. For Uncle Randy's widow, my cousin, my CO aunt, my traveling sister, my grieving mother, and all of us here who are holding the threads together until we can see our way to stitching this hole back together as best we can.
My heart is heavy with this impending goodbye. My family...this crazy, amazing family God blessed me into means the world to me. Every aunt, every uncle, all 20-something cousins...my life is all the more richer because they are in it and to lose one of them...even though I know he will be rejoicing at our Father's feet...is a deep ache.
Please pray for Uncle Randy and pray for the Hudson family as we give this day over to God's will.
I love all of you.
In short, he was in the shower, preparing to head to the church for Vacation Bible School when my aunt, Gail, who has MS among other health issues, heard a thud. He'd fallen in the shower and when she finally got to the bathroom to check on him, she said he displayed the classic symptoms of a stroke. He was just conscious enough at that point to indicate to her that he wanted clothing to cover him. Fast forward to later that day, after the fire dept. arrived, after the ambulance had taken him to a local hospital and then to Jackson, he was no longer conscious and had developed a brain bleed. He would never wake up again.
I've suffered loss before. Two great grandmothers. Two grandfathers. Paw-Paw Joe's loss, especially knocked me for a loop but this was different. We saw Paw-Paw Joe's passing coming. He gave us time to adjust slowly and even then, the adjustment to the final loss was hard. But this...this sudden loss of a beloved uncle...maybe I didn't see him every day but every member of my family is woven so tightly into the fabric of my being...the suddenness feels like a major rip down to my very core. I can't imagine just never seeing him again. Never rolling my eyes at something goofy he'd say. Never seeing his name pop up on my phone again. Having him missing from every family photo from now on.
On top of the loss is this unbearable sinking pit in my stomach. This undeniable truth that this is just the beginning. I have seven more sets of aunts and uncles on that side of the family and more on my dad's side. I will know this loss again and again and again. And it almost makes me wish our families weren't so close. That I didn't have so many memories. That I'd never loved them this much. Because this first loss is deeper than I'd ever imagined it to be. And I haven't even let myself THINK of how deep the loss will be when it's a parent. Or my Granny. Or a sister. I can't even let myself imagine too much what my mother and her siblings must be feeling because I don't want to think what it would feel like to lose one of my sisters.
As I type this, Sis1 is on an airplane headed to Denver to be with my aunt out there who also lost her husband last night. My heart aches for my aunt. And it quivers at the thought of my sister being on a plane in one of the worst weeks of my life...at a time when God is taking so many of my loved ones from this earth. I want her safe at home even though I know my aunt needs her.
And up in the northern part of the state, my cousin, Uncle Randy's son, is preparing to have one of his kidney's removed. A surgery he was supposed to have this week but had to be postponed because he's not healthy enough to survive the surgery right now. The offending kidney is producing too many toxins and he can't sustain enough vitamins and iron.
And I'll be honest...straight up, no holds barred honest...
I've been a little angry at God these last several days. I had carried this peace about me all last week that God would heal my uncle and he would recover and it felt like a major betrayal when Mama called me Thursday night to tell me that he'd been declared braindead and would be taken off the ventilator. And as we stood around his bedside Friday to say our goodbyes and love on each other I was just...I was sad, yes, but also mad. I just couldn't understand...Why had God given me peace about it if He knew he was going to take my uncle? And would that also mean he'd take my cousin?
All day that day, though, I'd had MercyMe's song, Even If, stuck on loop in my head. At the time I'd taken it as a banner of hope, still, that the doctors were somehow wrong. That I should carry hope with me. It wasn't until later, after Uncle Randy slipped from this life and we held hands and prayed that I realized God was trying to tell me something else...That peace He'd given me wasn't because He was going to pull Uncle Randy out of that fire...He wasn't going to move this mountain but that I could still trust in him...that the hope I'd carried was valid because He would see us through this loss.
And it's only with this in mind that I know we will see our way clear through this grief and whatever else there is out there that we will face in the coming days, weeks, and years. It will be hard. I still grieve at this loss and at the thought of future losses. But He will not leave me. I can still trust Him.
That being said, any prayers you have to spare, please send some up for us. For Uncle Randy's widow, my cousin, my CO aunt, my traveling sister, my grieving mother, and all of us here who are holding the threads together until we can see our way to stitching this hole back together as best we can.
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