Caves
Darkness. Thick enough to touch. Smelling of sadness and pain the darkness actually has an aroma of its own. Sometimes we feel it touching our skin like a dampness we can't wipe off. This darkness is palpable. I taste it and feel. The day the four letter word came into our lives was the day the sun turned out. November 20, 2016. DIPG. The sun as we knew it was gone and the darkness began to descend. Almost nine months later the darkness smothered us as she took her last breathe, August 18, 2017. Secure around us like shackles. Chains of death tying us to the darkness.
I have never really liked darkness. In fact I absolutely do not like it. I am the one who takes three flashlights and a head lamp just to take the trash out at night. Who runs back to the house from the not-so-far-away barn because the darkness must be hiding a boogie man ready to devour me.
This is probably why I don't like caves. Although the shelter and protection against an unexpected mountain storm is appealing it comes at the cost of the darkness. When you can't see the back of the cave its even worse. Where does it end? Who is lurking back there ready to pounce when I turn my back? Even if reality only holds spiders and cobwebs my imagination is sure its a grizzly bear.
The space in our lives left by her death is too big to explain. There is no end. Like a cave we will forever be tipping toeing thru eyes searching for the light at the end...Looking for u baby girl...Turning my head when blonde curls run by and then quickly remembering reality. Every morning, those first moments as consciousness peels back the layers of sleep....you are here. Then reality hits again. A knife in the stomach.
When a family loses a child the cave is long. The stolen years, the darkness never changes, the path still as rocky and treacherous years later. We are blessed to have friends in our life that have used their own experiences in caves and grief to walk beside us. Entering our Caves of grief while still in their own, taking our hands and reaching out to the cave wall, they show us how to take another step, then another. How to feel along the wall with our fingers and how to strain our eyes for the longed for light. The darkness still presses in, it will never change. But the blessing of a friend who has walked longer in her cave is life saving.
I miss the light. I miss the feel of the fresh breeze against our skin. I miss being able to look over the horizon. I miss you baby girl. The world is moving on. Some look with pity as they pass, some stop and ask how we are, some say nothing, enter the cave and walk beside us. We are thankful for all who in their own capacity are trying to be here.
I will be honest, there are days I forget the promise. The darkness is thick and I get caught up in the what if's and should have been's. It is in those moments I am thankful for friends and family who remind me of the promise. That the cave has an end. That the years of walking thru the darkness, feeling along the rugged walls, and tripping and falling onto our knees, will end. That One has walked thru this cave before and blasted out an end. An opening into the light. Where the light chases all the dampness away and the sweet smell of hope and reunion will surround us.
So we take another step, we fall, we crawl, tears at times blinding us, we try to raise our chins and keep our eyes straining for a glimpse of the light at the end. There are rare moments when our nostrils catch the barest whiff of the sweet smell of hope. It draws us onward...
One of the misconceptions is that our eyes will grow accustomed to the darkness. One would think that when darkness descends the eyes would adjust. Pupils dilate to admit as much light as possible and the mind would grow used to the dimness. This is not the case with this darkness. Losing a child is a darkness you will never grow accustomed to. Mommy's and Daddy's will forever feel the hole as acutely as the day it happened. Families will always notice the empty chair.
Our eyes strain to see the first glimpse of light. Our fingers searching for a change in the terrain to indicate the cave is ending. The light is real. It is there. Soon and very soon we will make a turn and the light will be there. Fingers of brilliance and warmth reaching thru the heavy darkness and illuminating our souls. An end to this path. Fresh air and warmth will touch our souls and our family will once again be whole. Reunion. Her strong and handsome angel will hand her to her mommy and daddy again. Blonde curls will be hers. Giggles and hugs and fluttering feet dancing like our butterfly used to.
So in those moments that we have forgotten what the lights look like, we take another step. Knowing that there will be light. No more boogie men waiting ahead of us. No more night. We hold onto this hope. He has broken the chains of death. He has conquered the grave and it holds no power over Him or anyone who believes in Him. She did. Jesus has her. She sleeps in Him without fear or pain.
Another day of the darkness breaks but we crawl forward, holding the promise of the soon coming light close to our hearts. Come soon Jesus. Stand with us in this darkness and help our eyes to always look for You, our Chain-breaker...
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