Tag Archives: sorrow

Time Does Not Heal All Wounds

Eighteen years ago today I was at work.  I called to check on my best friend/sister-in-law who was ready to give birth to her first child any day.  She was doing great but was experiencing an uncontrollable urge to, well, to put it as delicately as possible, have a bowel movement.  “DON’T PUSH, and get to the hospital!!” I told her.  Not long after that Richard arrived.  WHAT a cutie.  He was named in honor of his two grandfathers, Richard and Daniel.  A first grandchild and grandson for the both of them.  I was a very excited and proud first-time auntie.

Four years ago today I was working my last, and for the most part, rather uneventful shift in the ER.  I had turned in my resignation and was planning my move from Los Angeles to Colorado which was to take place in just a month.  I was excited about the new life which awaited me and all the adventures I was to have.  And I was thinking of my oldest nephew, Richard, who was on vacation with friends but was turning 14.

Just a couple of hours before my last shift was to end I got the phone call that didn’t change any of that, but changed absolutely everything.

Instead of long and tearful good-byes with my co-workers, I started the longest and most tearful good-bye of my life.  One that, as of today, has lasted four years.

I no longer count the time Connie has been gone in minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks, or even in months, but in years.  It’s still surreal to me.  I miss her every minute.

Congratulations on your 18th birthday Dicky Dan.  Your mother would have loved to see you and the man you have become.

I love you both, to the ends of the earth and to the highest heaven.


Dear Joanne,

Today is your anniversary, and I am thinking of you and praying for you on this day.  I am glad you are with your Mother and not alone at such a time.

I know you miss him horribly, and I know that it’s hard to imagine it has already been months since he went home to be with Jesus.  I know how fresh your sorrow will be today, but I also know that

your strength continues to come from the Lord.  The year of firsts is so hard, but you will make it through.  You know I love you, my friend…

Much love…

(Posted in absentia)

Dreams and Sadness

Every once in awhile I get to dream about her.  I often remember my dreams.  I am lucky.  My brother would love to dream about her.  Or better, remember the dream if he had one.  Maybe I get the dreams because I remember them.  I hesitate sharing my dreams with Phil.  It’s hard on him.  He wants so much to see Connie again, even if it’s in his sleep.  But he’s told me he wants to hear about the dreams anyway, even though it wrecks him.  Grief is never far from us.

I got “a Connie dream” sometime on Saturday before rising.  I remember the jeans she was wearing.  I remember them because I was surprised she was wearing them.  She always thought they were “too tight”.  They weren’t, but she thought they were.

I also remember that she came to me to share something that had been on her heart. 

As Christians, we are taught that there is no sadness or grief in heaven.  Connie wanted to let us know that even though there is not “sadness” there, that she is not unaware of OUR sadness and that she has deep emotion about our grieving.  I have no idea if this is Biblically accurate or not, but it was comforting to me to think that she is perhaps able to see us and know that we miss her, and that she, having gone before us, is looking forward to the day when we will reunite again, and there will be no more tears.  I often tire of crying.  I cry so easily since she died. 

I have no idea how heaven works, except that the joy of being with our Savior must be beyond measure. 

One of my niece’s school friends, only 14 years old, died suddenly while at school earlier this week.  And the sister/daughter of friends of mine passed away Saturday after a long illness.  A friend of mine called me from work yesterday.  She was waiting for the family of a young husband and father who collapsed and died playing basketball to arrive at the emergency department so that they could be told of their loss.  One completely unexpected death, one not wholly unexpected death, and the death of man to whom I have no connection, has touched my life this week.  And Connie.  Somehow this “visit” of hers to my dream has comforted me. 

My heart grieves as each of these families is only beginning to deal with the loss of their loved one.  I can’t help but remember what these first days were like for me and my own family.

To the families of Megan, and of Jan, and of this unknown young man, you are in my thoughts and my prayers.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

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