Friday, June 1, 2012

Dear God,

People keep telling me to write my mom a letter, but maybe I should write You one instead.  I am finding it harder to talk to You these days.  I had gotten so good at it a while back, and somewhere along the way, I started to shut down.  To detach.  To curl into a fetal position inside of my soul and take a nap.

I know You understand, and I know You see the order of my grief, when this phase will end and blend into another.  But I feel the need to talk about it, and You know how I write better than I talk.  So much better.

When will this part end?  When will I feel a part of the world around me again?  When will I feel like a real human being instead of someone that misses my mama so desperately?  I know You can't tell me these answers, and even if You did, it wouldn't make me feel any better.  But I just feel so hollow right now that a little knowledge of when it all would end could maybe plug the hole a wee bit.  Maybe?  Probably not, but it would be worth a shot.

I know You are patient with me.  More patient than I am with myself.  I know You hold me as I sit in wait in the weirdest emotional state I've ever been in throughout my life.  I didn't really think I would be mad at You, but I guess I am a little.  Why did it have to be her?  Why not a crack head that didn't even take care of her own daughter... why couldn't You have let the fallen state of the world fall on her shoulders and not my precious mama?  Wouldn't that make more sense?  It would to me.

Even though I feel a little mad and detached from You right now, I am still clinging to Your promises.  Clinging.  I know that this, too, shall pass.  I know that You will use whatever I am feeling right now to pull me closer to Your Love.  I know that I have to feel what I am feeling to be whole again.  I just can't imagine what being whole in a world without my mother will look like.  But I will trust, even through the pain, that You have it all under control.  You know the beginning and end of everything and all the in betweens.  And my job right now is just to keep my faith even on the days when I don't want to, trusting that in Your time, things will all make perfect sense.

In Your perfect timing.

Your daughter


Nana's Notes said...

Oh, how I want to hold you right now and stroke your hair and say some comforing words and I would if I were there. I HATE your suffering. Wish I could stop it. I love you and you can use this old Aunt for a soundboard any time. ONE DAY AT A TIME, TAMARA...AND ONE MINUTE AT A TIME. Just know I care.

Erika Kaplan said...

While I don't understand and can't imagine how you are feeling, I can understand the feeling of detachment and shutdown. I know telling you it will pass doesn't help, but it will and then it may come back. Well, that was comforting. Ok, well, just know I am always thinking/praying for you. Love you much!

Connecting to the soul said...

I just wanted to hold you as I read this, Although I don't know what you are feeling I do know the great love and loss, you are feeling. I loved my grandma just as much as you loved your mom. I was a teen when my grammy lost her life and handling that loss was really hard. When the great things happened in my life I couldn't wait to tell her or call her- even picked up the phone to dial her number to remember she wouldn't answer. The pain and heart ache started all over again. Did it get better ? To some degree but I do still miss her a great deal, she was the most wonderful lady in my life, and I learned a great deal from her and her life.
I will lift you up to our father.