Images of Grief

I am going to try and keep this shorter. Here goes...

What images come to your mind when you hear the word "grief?" Here's what comes to my mind:

• a widow of a fallen soldier, dressed in black and standing by the graveside, holding the folded American flag
• an elderly woman trying to figure out how to pump gas from the gas station after her husband has died. He always did this for her and she never learned how and now she has to.
• a couple decorating a nursery for a baby that will never come home from a hospital
• a family or friend, losing a beloved dog. They know that it's not the same as a person dying, but dang it, they loved that dog and he was like a child to them.
• the look on people's faces when they are standing by the bedside of someone they love who is critically ill. There is just a certain look you have when you know they are not going to make it.
• a Middle Eastern women, shrouded in black, wailing as her child's coffin is carried through her town or village-another senseless death
• an emaciated mother in a third-world country trying to nurse another child, knowing this child will probably die, also.
• going to the Holocaust museum in Washington, D.C. and seeing pictures of people being separated from loved ones as they are transported to extermination camps.

I could go on and on. It truly sobers me to think of the intense grief that mankind has endured and created. Now, I know some of you are waiting for me to put some sort of spiritual emphasis here, but I am not ready to do that. I am still not talking to God right now. I am sure if others were writing this, they would write about the grief that mankind brought to God and how He sent Jesus to pay for this grief, etc.
Now remember, this is my blog and I get to write what I want. You are welcome to write a comment and share your own spiritual take on this, but I am not ready to do this.

While the depth of my grief over Jacob's death is deep, I know that it does not compare to some of the examples I listed above. It doesn't lessen it knowing that, but it does help me put life in perspective. Jacob, despite overwhelming health issues, had a wonderful life and received and gave a lot of joy. He wasn't raised in a concentration camp, he never went hungry, he had the best medical care available and he was loved by so many people. He had a great life. Saying that, I do have some images of personal images of grief related to him. Here goes and I promise this will be it for this post:

• looking at the picture of  Ben and Katie's face at the gravesite. They loved him and never complained about his health needs always coming before their needs when they were growing up. I have a lot of stories about this.
• speed-dialing my family on my cellphone and going down the list - Richard (#2), Ben (#4), Katie (5), Jacob (#6) - my heart always hurts when I realize Jacob won't answer anymore.
• memories of my standing by his casket and patting it constantly at the visitation and the gravesite ceremony. I know the part of him that I loved isn't there anymore - the body is just a shell and all that, but this was the shell of my son. I wanted to help him get dressed, tie his shoes, wash his clothes, ruffle his hair, etc., one more time.
• sitting by his bed so many times and wondering if I would get to bring my son home again.
• Finally, I need to stop because this is too hard - watching him go into cardiac arrest and trying to revive him. Constantly saying, "Jacob, Jakey, come on honey, mom's here, stay with me, you can do this. Jacob, I love you, it's okay, I love you, sweetie. Mom's here." And then, watching doctors and nurses trying to revive him, knowing he's gone, but surely he'll rally one more time. Seeing Katie and Richard by his bedside telling him goodbye. And then, Ben and Beth coming in after he's gone and weeping by his bedside. Finally, our extended family - grandparents, aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces, cousins, and of course, so many wonderful friends, telling him goodbye.

It's time to stop. This is too hard. I feel like a first grader. Here's what one ( a first-grader) would say to a friend like Grief: "I don't like you. You're mean. You're not my friend anymore."

So there.