Just as my sky cleared, the bottom fell out over our city. Tuesday a rippling heartbreak occurred as an infant suddenly and traumatically died. The rain has pounded down every night since, dramatically concluding a summer of drought. The deluge of water pounding overhead and the fierce thunder has interrupted sleep. My abrupt consciousness begins with a racing heart as the sound immediately takes my thoughts to the young parents at the beginning of such a season of dark storms. I then calm as I imagine God’s tears mixed in that rain, washing over them...and us.
My storms kept getting shockingly stronger as the grief season progressed, until Lydia’s Birthday. That storm only brewed a week rather than a month. The focus was simply Lydia rather than the magnitude of secondary losses. Anticipation was by far the darkest aspect, during which I labored over the expression. Documenting a snapshot of our divided hearts, the part that left us and the portion that remains, was all I needed to release me to run out of the intensity into the storm shelter for the rest of the day. There we did as little as possible till the remnant passed. A long nap and a simple dozen purchased cupcakes with family were involved, unlike last year. Both extremes were perfect in their time. I’ve come out emotionally satisfied but spent.