LIVING ROOM MEMORIES  132 

(February 17, 2008)

Ohh, do I ever need to blog – to share with you some of the stuff I’m going through!

I coped fine with everything until the day after the funeral. Then I found out that my best friend will be away for the months of March and April. This is someone I love very much, a kindred spirit, someone I talk to almost every day….and yes, someone I’m probably far too attached to. For the past few days I’ve spent much of my time in tears.

I guess spending most of three weeks at my mother-in-law’s bedside as she lay dying took a toll on me, even though I thought I was handling it okay. Now my emotions are raw. I don’t know what I’m most sad about, my mom-in-law’s death or my friend’s leaving. Can’t distinguish. I just feel terribly sad.

I guess this is what grief is. Now I just hope that this grief does not turn into depression. I can’t get depressed, especially while the support of my good friend is not here for me. Especially when there is so much I need to do. I’m going to do my darndest not to get depressed. Tomorrow I’m seeing a counselor, someone I’ve never seen before. I hope she’ll be able to help me. I hope I’ll like her. I hope she’s good.

The sermon at church today was about love. One thing our pastor talked about was how great the love of God is. He talked about the “scandalous love of a father”, the father of the prodigal son. The father welcomes the son back so eagerly, even running to meet him – something grown men at that time never did. Running would mean having to lift your clothing and showing your bare legs! In spite of how the son had turned his back on him, the father threw an extravagant party for him. How much that father loved him and how it must have hurt him when this son first left! How he must have missed this son! The father in the story is meant to portray God and gives a good picture of just how great God’s love for us is.

And when I think of the terrible pain I’m feeling right now, I can see the pain God must feel when he loses one of us. God understands the kind of pain I’m feeling now.