Monday, March 27, 2017

The Beauty of The Beast


My husband took me to see a movie yesterday, as part of an early birthday date.  We rarely see a movie in the theatre. It's expensive and, with five kids and my husband's grueling work schedule, we don't get the opportunity often (it's been TWO years since we have had a childless date). I very much wanted to see the movie The Shack but I'm smart enough to know my "ugly cry" response to it needs to stay at home so that was off the list. So, we went to see Beauty and The Beast, instead. I saw the original in theatre and wanted to experience the remake the same way.



Going in, I saw my aunt, two cousins and their two daughters. I smiled at how sweet it was, watching the youngest--who is three--going to see her first movie. It didn't hit me until I was sitting by myself in the partially-lit room,  alone as my husband went to get concessions, that this choice may be equally emotionally dangerous, for me. 



It dawned on me that it's been over five years since I saw a movie with Aubrey. Would she want to come see this with me if she was still here? Absolutely. Then, frantically, I tried to remember watching the original version with her and I couldn't. Blank. I had a mini meltdown realizing another small memory of her had faded because couldn't hold on to it tight enough. It happens this way, for me, a lot. 


I got myself mostly back together by the time my husband came back. 


It was a beautifully made movie. I saw so much of my girl in the main character, Belle. She was beautiful, unique and so strong. She loved reading, animals, people and adventure. 




She knew she didn't belong in the life she was in. She was going places! 



The Beast, I saw as a metaphor for my grief. Beautiful and awful all at the same time, there are layers, both good and bad. It takes loving me through the bad to reap the rewards of the good. When the Beast freed Belle, to return to her father, he knew he truly loved her and that love would haunt him for the rest of his life. Ironically, he had to let her go because he loved and wanted her there so much. 


I can relate. 


There is so much joy, and pain, in loving someone who is a memory. The beauty of who Aubrey was and the impact her life made is incredible. While it can be beyond devastating that I don't have her here with me, there is hope in the promise that I will spend eternity with her in Heaven. When that day comes, this painful life will be like a blur. 


So, I go on another day...another year, now, knowing that I am blessed to have had her as my own and I will be with her again. She is living in complete perfection. I could never want anything better for her. 


Soon and very soon, my girl...Mama is coming. 



Wednesday, March 22, 2017

The Many Sides of Grief

Grief is a cancer. It lives inside of it's host, wreaking havoc and taking over. It sucks the joy and fun out of life. It ages you...wears you out. 

Grief is an active threat. It doesn't back down. It's sneaky. It cannot be outsmarted or outrun. 

Grief is the ultimate opponent. Grief does not play nice. 

Grief, itself, cannot be seen but it's effects are very evident. 


Grief is also a gift. 


I often say, the bigger the love, the bigger the loss. I fully believe that. The more we love a person, the more we feel their absence. It's a blessing and a curse but--for me--it's worth every single bit of pain to have loved and have been loved. 


Losing something that is more important to you than most anything in your world makes it much easier to measure the value of all other things. You quickly realize who and what matter to you. You spend less time trying to impress others and more time with the ones closest to you. You stop "sweating the small stuff" and just let it go! You know to savor each moment that is good. 


Grief makes you tough, in good ways and bad. When you know that you have experienced possibly the worst thing imaginable, it makes other things seem survivable. 


In a less appealing way, it toughens you where you push people away. The good news in that is it shows you who is willing to love you in spite of the walls you put up. If someone is willing break the walls down (or better yet, climb inside with you) they're worth having around. 


Grief is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Through these last five years, I've grown and changed in ways I never imagined possible. I have met others walking the same path. I've lost many who aren't willing to take on the burden. I have learned to survive in ways that others may not approve of or understand. What I know above all of that is that it's all temporary. This life...this pain...it's not here to stay. One day, God will call me to be with my girl. Until then, I'm going to try to trust Him and love who I can, when I can, the best I can. It's all any of us can handle if you think about it. I'm sorry for anyone that doesn't fall into one of those categories at any given time. I never mean to hurt others. Please forgive me if I have. 


So, do your best to be kind to everyone. We are all walking through something in our own little worlds. LOVE