Thursday, March 3, 2011

When you least expect it.

Sunday, Aaron and I were at church. We go pretty much every Sunday. It's part of out routine. We get up, go out to breakfast, go to church and hang out at coffee hour, catching up with people while the kids run around like crazy people. I like church. I grew up going to an Episcopal church and I think it was a great thing - gave me a different world view than what I got during the week at school, and I think that is where I learned the Golden Rule. I've gone to church on and off as an adult, and when we settled in our house, I decided to start attending this Unitarian Universalist Church in the center of town.

It's a great group of people, we've made some real friends there, and I enjoy the community. When I was pregnant with the twins, another member was also pregnant. She had a hard time getting pregnant too, and we would talk about things. We weren't close, but 'pregnancy buddies'. I even think I posted here when she lost her baby. It was about 2 months before the twins were born... and they almost lost the mother too. It was SO awful at the time.

And then, we lost Nora.

So, when we see each other at coffee hour (which isn't often because they go to a different service) we nod and kind of share a look like 'are you ok?'. But this past Sunday, her wife stood up and told their story for stewardship Sunday - talking about how this church has been a place that has supported them through their best times (their wedding) and the worst (the death of their son). The minute she stepped up, I knew what she was going to talk about, and I just sobbed. It was awful.

And that is what the pain has changed to. It's been over a year. I still think of Nora everyday, but not in a sad way, usually. It's changed from a sharp pain stabbing my heart to a dull ache. Every once in a while, though, it get whacked with it - full on. I just sob. And it can be something obvious - like someone telling a very similar story, or something like listening to Christmas carols or watching my niece ice skate - totally random stuff. I'm guessing that's a normal thing - but when it happens it really knocks the wind out of my sails.


Heather said...

I've had those moments too, and while it is happening it is awful. But, afterwards, I often feel pretty darn good. Like I needed the release and didn't even know it. And it's nice to know that I still have that connection to Henrick. I wish my connection wasn't all sadness, but it is what it is.

Deborah said...

So sorry. I guess those moments will always be there. It sounds like this church is a good community to have, though. I wish I could get in the habit of going to synagogue more frequently.

Michele said...

I dont think those moments ever go away. Even though I am at a place where I can find acceptance in Nick, Sophie, and Alex's deaths, I still find the wind knocked out of me by some of the smallest reminders of their lives here, within and without.

Sara said...

Yep. Though I would hazard that those wind-out-of-you moments come fewer and further between as time goes on. I still have 'em occasionally though.

Carrie27 said...

Time does not heal wounds, it can only hopefully lessen their pain. (hugs)

BigP's Heather said...

What a powerful message, and so brave to get up and share it.

I'm sorry.