After a year of living without my sweet Jude, I still find it difficult to find the words to communicate what I’m now living with. I find great comfort in hearing the hearts and stories of those who have also lost infants, and being able to relate to the feelings and emotions that they put into words for me. Sean does this for me often. He has acted as the spokesman, for the most part, for our family for the past year when it comes to communicating how we are living without our third son. His words ring strong and pure, and they help to put something tangible in my seeming inability to do likewise.
And it’s not that I don’t know how I feel – sometimes I sense the murmurings of my mind and heart are too full to contain within me. But I haven’t been able to write it down. The English language always seems too small, too inadequate, to express the complex and gargantuan feelings I have about the loss of my son, and how I am learning to live with this ache, this grief, this massive hole in my heart. But the desire to write it down is returning, and in so doing, I hope to organize my thoughts in such a way that I might be able to look back one day and see the hand of God in ways that I can’t today.
One of the biggest things I have learned this year is that it is possible to have joy in the midst of grief. Those first few weeks after Jude went to heaven, I couldn’t fathom how I was ever going to smile again, laugh again, enjoy life again. I felt so guilty when I looked in the eyes of my two beautiful living boys, and I only saw that Jude was not there. It was gut-wrenchingly painful. And there are many moments where I still struggle with that. But now, I have discovered that I can enjoy my boys, my husband, a hike, a joke, even in the midst of grief. These good, joyful things don’t necessarily take away my ache, but they also aren’t prevented because of it either. Joy and grief coexist. And I am becoming both comfortable and grateful for that. Because it is in the ache that I most often feel the closest to my sweet Jude. The ache seems all I have left.
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” -Job 13:15a