That was our day last Friday. We had experienced a week of reverting back to the first nine months of Jacob's life, waking up every few hours--coughing, nightmares, dog throwing up, you name it, it woke us up.
Because we were having a hard week with no sleep and, therefore, grumpy mommy, I planned a "Happy Birthday" party for Jesus and invited some of the girl's closest friends. It was to be on Friday morning. We were leaving town the next day and were worried about our dog health not improving all week. So I woke up with the dread of our indecision, "do we put him to sleep?" Eliza woke up at 5:30, BTW, that morning out of excitement for her party. So all the friends started coming over and they were playing, Marshall was on the phone with his mom and the vet talking about Joe. The party was about to start, I was going to read the Christmas story. Marshall pulled me into our bedroom and told me that he felt we should put Joe to sleep. The reality hit and I started to sob. I asked a friend to read the story while I cried and said goodbye to Joe. We pulled the girls out of the story circle so that they could say goodbye. They were fine with it, then.
After everyone left, Eliza started bawling about Joe. We had to talk about death and the fact that he wasn't ever coming back. While this was happening Marshall was taking some Christmas presents we had gotten for a single mother of three kids. The mother was supposed to meet him at her beat up apartment in the projects. She wasn't there, but there was a house full of people and the children upstairs, some yelling. He couldn't get ahold of the mom on the phone. So that was depressing. Not that we wanted gratitude or acknowledgment even. We just wanted a chance to reach her and build some trust, but it felt so hopeless, like she was embarrassed and saw it as a "handout."
Meanwhile, Eliza was still upset, a knock at the door. It was one of our homeless friends just wanting someone to love on her. She had been clean and living with her family for several months and then a series of events led her to be thrown out and rejected by her family, yet once again. So now she on the streets again, doing only what she knows to survive. The sadness overwhelmed me.
If you've read the book about Alexander's terrible, horrible, etc. day you would know that after each terrible thing he mentions, like gum in his hair, he ends with, "I think I'll move to Australia." Well, I was thinking about it last Friday. But at the end of the book he shares some of his mom's wisdom which is that bad days happen, even in Australia. So, obviously, I cannot get away from these sad moments, many of them live around me. Therefore, if I can't escape them or ignore them, what DO I do with them?
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what a very sad day. i loved hearing your side of the story after reading marsh's.
a question... how did people in the Ivory Coast deal with mourning sad days/seasons?? i have this picture of loud mourning but i don't know if that's accurate. i'm wondering if we americans struggle with sadness b/c we don't have a obvious and/or healthy practice of mourning. we really don't know what to do with it b/c we've been taught if we have faith, we shouldn't be sad. which is silly of course, but i can buy into it too.
anyway, no answers, but just questions back at your questions. one thing i would do with your sadness is sit with you in it! and love on YOU. love and respect you diane!
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