I want to start with the most sincere of apologies. But, I will get to that a little later….
I have struggled this past year to focus. Even now I want to get some words out on a page and I struggle to find the ones that fit. Some of you will say, “Matt, you have had such a hard year. We understand.” To be sure, this past year has been full of so many twists and turns. The highs have been extremely high, but the lows have been lower than I could have ever imagined. I don’t want those highs or lows to dictate the way I respond to life that is happening all around me. In fact, this might be the hardest part of all of these things. There are so many things that can remind, often painfully, that Graham is not with us. And it is not always the obvious things like newborn babies. I find myself catching a random moment only to realize the painful truth: in that moment - something is missing. Life has a cruel way of not pausing for us to catch up.
In the middle of this, we talk about the future a lot lately. I am getting close to graduation; we need to look at ministry jobs; we are back in the swing of preaching at the retirement center; we talk about trying to grow our family again. There are too many variables to really understand what the future might hold specifically. But, I am keenly aware of something stirring deep within me. But I don’t have the capacity to quantify it. As cliché as this might sound: I only hope that from these moments on, I can grow to be the man, husband and father that God has called me to be.
It has been about 6 months of silence. Not just on this silly blog (which I never updated anyway). But 6 months of no Caring Bridge, no returned emails, no Facebook posts, no returned letters, even conversations with people have lacked connection. This is the apology part. I am deeply sorry to all of you, my sweet friends and family. So many of you have been so encouraging, such a blessing in the midst of the struggle of my family. Your letters, emails, posts, phone calls have all been received and consumed with fury of a thirsty man finding a hidden oasis. But I have not responded in kind to your sweet blessings. I am sorry. It is my hope to slowly rectify this.
Part of it started that Saturday morning after Graham was gone. We woke up in a quiet hospital room. A huge pit in my stomach, one question I kept repeating to myself was “How do I begin to process this?” I began to write some emails to let everyone know about Graham. I wanted to post a blog, to start the grieving and recovery process. I started with the one I thought would be easiest, a letter to my professors talking about not being in class and updating them on our situation. My professors had been gracious servants of my family. It took me over an hour to write two paragraphs. I cried so much, I couldn’t even see the screen. I hesitated to write anything else after that. Only the things that “had” to be completed would be. Part of that was Erin, she does such a beautiful job with her blog http://www.whatweredugan.com/ , I know that my ramblings would be lacking in comparison. Not to mention, that many of the things she poured out were the same I was feeling. I go to seminary, plagiarism is not allowed.
But this thing that is stirring inside, I have to get it out somehow. I need others to hear of the grace that God gives to me each day. I was told by one of my professors to remember that grief is not a linear process. You don’t move gradually down the line of anger, hurt, depression, etc. Rather, grief is cyclical. I might deal with anger at one point and be done with it, only for it to come back in 6 months or 6 years with a whole new process. The parts of Grief all ebb and flow with the passage of time. I need to deal with what is going on now. After all, I understand fully that we are not guaranteed anything more than what we have now. I want to make the most of “now.”
