Today marks 9 years. NINE years of carrying around this blanket. The blanket of grief. The one I never asked for or wanted, and yet, there are times I hold it a little closer. Did you ever have a special blanket or “lovey” when you were little? My two grandsons both have theirs, and they’re never too far from their sight or reach. It’s like that with my grief, too. It’s always there, maybe not in my grasp, but never really out of sight. There’s a weird sort of “comfort” that it carries, I guess. It reminds me of Mawamaw’s quilt…it’s special, it holds sweet memories, and it’s just the right weight for me to take a good little nap under. My grief is like that also, but sometimes I really hate it. I guess it’s a love/hate relationship. I love that it’s there because it means that I loved my sweet Katie Beth enough for it to still be around after nine years, but I hate that it’s even here, part of my story.
When I woke up this morning, it was the first thing I thought of. I think that’s how it is for a lot of bereaved parents. It’s hard for it not to be the first/last thing that we think of each day, that’s why mornings and nighttime can be so hard. It’s facing the reality of them not being here when you wake up each day, and sometimes praying to wake up with them in heaven as you lay your head down at night to go to sleep. At least that’s how it’s been for me these past nine years. This morning, as I struggled to climb out of bed, I thought, “The blanket is heavy today.” And then the Lord nudged me…write about it. So here I am. It’s been a while since I’ve written, but I find it to be helpful and even therapeutic. I’m not sure if this is intended to help anyone else, or just me, but I’m putting it out here with the hope that it will encourage or help others who may be carrying their own blanket.
This grief blanket…it’s always there. There are moments I find comfort in it, and then there are times I hate it. Sometimes I want to snuggle up with it and hold it close, and other times I get so frustrated with it that I just want to kick it off and walk away. You know, like you wake up in the middle of the night and realize, “Oh my gosh…I’m so HOT!” And then there are times that it’s just a little too much, so I just throw my arm or leg out to cool off. Sometimes, it’s just the right weight for a little “power nap,” and other times it’s so heavy I can barely climb out from under it. It’s a blessing and a curse.
As I sit here under my literal and figurative blanket writing this, I look down and see my sweet little pup “Georgia” snuggled up at my feet. And once again, God nudges me. That little pup is just like me when you’re under your blanket. I’m here. Right beside you. You are not alone. If you want to lie here, I’ll lie with you. If you want to get up, I’ll go with you. I’m content being close to you. And once again, my heart is comforted by our Father as He draws me near to Him. Yes, the blanket is heavy at times. And there will be times I want it, maybe even NEED to climb under it and just rest, but I won’t be alone. And neither will you, if you have a blanket. So, let this be an encouragement to us both. Blankets are God’s little reminders that you are loved, and He will always be close by to snuggle up with us. Now, I gotta get up and get going, but I’m taking my blanket with me.
