Brick by Brick: Rebuilding the Broken

Grief is so hard. So irreversible. So lonely.  It's like a package delivered to you that you didn't order, you don't want to open, and yet it is yours. A burden you are forced to carry everywhere you go. At first, it is obvious to everyone - the massive load of bricks you carry - the pain, the loss, the empty chair, the tears, the sadness, the depression, the unexpected behavior of the family left to mourn their beloved.  Presumed, even acceptable. Then, somewhere, sometime, somehow - your burden becomes invisible to others. As if they put their tiny package of acknowledgement away, did their "time" in whatever way they chose to grieve with you, and let it slide under the couch, never to be seen or felt again. Their hour of mourning, now neatly discarded in yesterday's news, completely out of their thoughts. While we who are left with a gaping hole the size of our loved one, still carry that black bag with us every moment, every day, with every breath we

Sometimes I am ok. Other days, I attempt making coffee in my CD player... Just trying to counteract my fog-filled choices. That is a daily battle.  You've probably heard of grief fog. There is pain fog as well. It gets really messy - WHEN GRIEF AND PAIN COLLIDE. How to get anything done when I must save my energy  to work around weather flares,   be able to participate in social outings,   and constantly regroup from yet another trigger?  Just when I feel good enough  to accomplish anything of considerable value,        I cram my energies into that small window of time.  Then pay-back begins, for every crime my body chose to commit against itself. The recovery is always longer than the event.  "Oh, you wanted to get groceries today?"  The cost for that will be: 12) Muscles knotting 11) Joints crying 10) Bones a creaking 9) Back a bending 8) Feet a twisting 7) Skin a crawling 6) Ears a popping 5) Spinal crunches 4) Toes mangled 3) Shoul

"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid."                                                                                    -John 14:27 This is the verse I held onto as the only thing I could comprehend in those early days.  I was given a devotional book by a now dear friend, when we lost our son.  I couldn't comprehend much, being so broken,  but there was a very small part of me clinging to the truth.  Only the grace of God helped us in those very dark early days of grief.  If not for His love,  in the form of a small group of people who chose to reach out  in various ways,  to give me a reason to keep going,  to make me go out for coffee,  just to keep me putting one foot in front of the other,  when it would have been so much more desirable  just to lay down in the coffin beside our son.  The tenacity of friends, whether they ar

June 2018: I wrote this last year and somehow just couldn't post it. The eerie thing is that I wrote it last year at the same date. I don't want to know what will happen in the future. No one could handle that kind of knowledge. Time and time again. And again. And again and again.... All I need to know is this very moment I am in the hand of God. Even when nothing makes sense, I must trust in the provision of those around me, learn to quiet the voices that accuse, and wait for the next moment bravely, while fighting furiously for all that I hold dear.                                                                                                                                                                  June 2017: One of the few things that has gotten me this far is music. It heals the places nothing else can reach. I loved music before, and now it's what holds me together. I tried learning guitar, from my youngest son. But my hands are too stiff and s

I am a mother.  I am a wife.  I am a daughter, a friend, an acquaintance,  a neighbor, a stranger, a customer, a patient, a child of the King.  I am many things.  I am also NOT some things, however, I will not bore you with an extensive list.  But there is one thing, in which there is no word to describe, who am I?  I am not a widow or widower, I have not lost a spouse.  I am not an orphan, I have not lost both of my parents.  I am a grieving mother - there is no word to tell you, what that pain brings.  This is a path I never wish anyone to walk with me.  But, if you are on this path with me, come sit beside me for awhile, and perhaps we can lighten the load for each other, if only for a brief moment. ↝ Stories from the journey of my life ↜ written by: Sue Leerhoff ↝  follow me on my Facebook page ↜ - Brick by Brick

If this is the last thing I ever write, I hope it gives someone out there a glimpse of hope for the future. I have not written for three years, because life gets messy.  I was in the beginning of a tailspin, when I chose to start this blog in hopes of encouraging others.  I was working, the kids were growing up, and putting their sails out, ready to navigate into the adult world .  I thought I had time to spread my wings a little further and begin writing books. I am so glad that we don't have the ability to see into the future. I don't WANT to know what happens tomorrow. Because tomorrow could be another devastating shredding of the heart, another disappointment, another loss forever. But whoever gave us the idea, every human seems to expect as a right, in which we will have smooth sailing? I don't know, but it seems we are all upset whenever things don't go our way. When we get hurt, denied, betrayed, looked over, left without, only holding on to broken hea