Gravity

I noticed the other day how lightly I walked in and out of the grocery store. And, at almost 8 months pregnant I certainly don’t mean weight-wise. I remembered feeling the heaviness of my grief when I was in public a year ago. A stranger would walk by with her two children and I would feel like I wanted to jump out of my skin! I was still wrestling with whether I could really live life carrying this pain I was feeling in missing Brooklyn, in being a Mom without her baby. My heart seemed to protest anytime I was somewhere that most people seemed in one piece, because I felt full of nothing but pieces. 

 

This evening was one of those ugly cry, go through an entire box of tissues, hair damp on each sides of my face from lying on the floor sobbing kind of evenings. I don’t know if it’s Mother’s Day being around the corner, or being at a party last night where the question, “Is this your first?”, inevitably came up with each person we met, or Lydia’s baby showers coming up, or just…the nature of grief, but the hole felt so big tonight. 

 

I remembered her. And, I don’t just mean in my memory….it felt like every part of me was hit with a wave of remembering. It began to feel uncomfortable to be in this skin, in this body, living without her. The very molecules I’m made from seemed to shout, “Something is not right! Someone is missing! Where is she?” 

In this moment, the bed, the couch, even a rigged dining room chair doesn’t seem suitable to hold me. Only the floor will do. The gravity of grief is a strong force.

 

Where is He? My heart kept searching. Woven in between my hearts’ grasps for Him, I hear things like, “He’s not real. See He’s not answering you.”…..”She’s not really in Heaven, that’s just something people say because they can’t handle the idea of an innocent baby dying.” The accuser is so loud. Maybe crying louder will drown him out? My heart’s eyes see feet walk up. Beautiful feet, that’s all I can see. “I hear you! I see you! And, your sobbing is like a beautiful song to me.” That’s what my heart heard. I don’t have any verses to back that up. I don’t know why He would say that to me? But that’s what I heard. Hearing makes all the difference. It may not stop the tears or quiet the whimpers right away, but it plants them in a place where maybe one day they will grow something beautiful. 

 

Maybe the force of gravity even knows there’s more going on with our tears than we could ever see this side of eternity?