A Grief Observed

Stage 1: The Leidenfrost Effect

It's normal. All is well.
I'm alone. But all is well.
She's not here. But all is well.
It's normal. All is well.

A simple text. All is well.
A sudden plunge.

All is well.

When no pain comes, all is well.
She's not here. But all is well.
But she's not there. And all is well.
It didn't happen. All is well.
But it did. And all is well.

I feel no pain. All is well.
But I do. And all is well.

What is this pain I feel?

It is not the pain of nerves, like you feel when you have a tooth pulled. It is not the pain of emptiness, like the pain you feel when your tongue touches the exposed gum. It is the pain of numbness; the pain you feel when they give you local anesthesia but keep you awake during the procedure. Your nerves are numb, so it does not hurt, but you know it should. You can feel the roots being severed, hear the ties being torn. Your conscious knows that this should hurt, but your subconscious cannot, will not, accept it. And so all is well.

The danger of this stage is that, because it doesn't hurt, we are not prepared when it does. And I wasn't.

Stage 2: The Stiff Heart Questions

The feet, mechanical, go round. Until it hit me. It wasn't the plunge that did me in, it was the lingering. The realization that she wasn't just a few hundred miles away anymore. The realization that I don't know how to move forward from this. The realization that she doesn't get to be a light in this world anymore. The realization that I don't even know what it will be like this December in San Diego anymore. The realization that now there is now only one person who can fully understand me when I say "First Maker Last Maker". The realization that there is one less person who will ever call me "Tilaps". The realization that those pictures on Facebook are now just pictures, and there is no longer anything of substance behind them. The realization that on October 23, she texted me, and I never responded.

A few hours too late, I responded to her text:

Janee,
The other day, you and Claire asked for a C.S. Lewis quote. I never did send you one. Here is the best one I could find:
"You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw -- but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realise that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of -- something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat's side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it -- tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest -- if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself -- you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say "Here at last is the thing I was made for". We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work."

I broke down. I asked "why" more times than I can count. Why, God? Why her? Why now? What is your will in this? Where is your healing hand? What is the greater thing you want to show us? How could that possibly be your plan for her life? Why was that your plan for her life? What are you trying to teach us? Why couldn't you teach us some other way? What good could this possibly accomplish that you couldn't accomplish some other way?

I was mad. I began to wish God had taken me instead, that my depraved mind would end and her loving spirit would continue.

All this time, I would simply scroll through Facebook, my newsfeed as full of her face as my eyes were of tears. Yes, I freely admit, by this point, I was sobbing. Nose running, breath staggering, the whole bit. If you know me, you know that this isn't exactly a common occurrence. I decided to join the crowd and change my profile picture to honor her. I posted a picture of the Pocket in an elevator (missing Paul, somehow). In the description, I gave her another C.S. Lewis quote, this time from A Grief Observed:

If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to "glorify God and enjoy Him forever." A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her.

I also posted another quote from the same book as my status, dedicated to her of course. The quote read:

God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn't. In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down.

The problem with both of these was, I was not ready to accept them. Sure, I knew in my head that Janee didn't really lose anything. In fact, she is more alive now than she ever was when I knew her. She is more filled with joy than she ever could have been this side of eternity. But that first quote continues to say that the mother's spirit of motherhood has, in fact, died. She is no longer a mother. That part of her, brought out by the child, is gone. True, that is not the chief aim for which she was created, but it was a part of her nonetheless. So that quote really doesn't give any comfort.

As for the second one, in my head it always made sense. But it is one thing to understand something and another to own it. For example, this past Sunday, the pastor at my church flippantly referenced John 3:16 - "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life." Almost everyone has heard this verse, and I dare say that most Christians wholeheartedly believe in it. But have you ever had to truly take hold of that promise - "whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life"? I know I have not. Not that I didn't believe in it. I can assure you that I did. But it is one thing to believe in something and another to take hold of it. And in this case, taking hold of that promise meant letting go of a dear friend, and that is not a painless process.

Stage 3: Help my Unbelief

Gradually, the tears subside, and I begin to try to think clearly. I would quote scripture, songs, books, and people to myself. I said to myself exactly what I would have said to someone who was in my position two weeks earlier. But what I found was that all of the knowledge and quotes in the world couldn't change how I felt. It was simply not a matter of knowing that she is seeing God face to face, or that God is still in control. It was a matter of accepting all of those realizations I had come to in the previous stage. It is something that I could never have understood until it happened. As I said, I knew exactly what I would have said to someone else in my position, but now I know that there is nothing you can say that will help. There is no secret thought, no cathartic moment, no magical phrase that can simply make it all better.

I would hear other people say things, and my conscious mind would scream them at my subconscious until I became physically out of breath. But, as with the first stage, the subconscious will only ever move as it pleases, not as the conscious wills it. Some of these things were:

"God is good, and God is sovereign. He knew he would be glorified more with Janee with Him."

"She ran the race so hard that she beat all of us."

"She is home now. We will see her soon!"

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants." -Psalm 116:15

All of these things are true, and all of them are comforting. I readily accept them as such. But try telling a man who has just lost his leg that he only has to wait a little while until all will be made new. If he is a man of great faith, he will agree with you with little complaint. But that does not mean he can walk. He will eventually learn to get around with a wheelchair or prosthetic limb. But he will never be exactly the same, and no amount of comfort or faith can change that.

In addition to these comforting phrases, I began to see her in everything, but especially in song lyrics and quotes. In keeping with the staccato moments of feeling in my life at that time, I am simply going to list these with no explanation:

"I remember you like yesterday, yesterday

I still can't believe you're gone
I remember you like yesterday, yesterday
And until I'm with you, I'll carry on

Every lament is a love song

Yesterday, Yesterday

I still can't believe you're gone

Oh so long my friend, so long."

--"Yesterdays", by Switchfoot

"End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it...white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise"

--The Return of the King, directed by Peter Jackson

"Where is my song?

I've lost the song of my soul tonight

Sing it out

Sing it out

Take what is left of me

Make it a melody

Sing it out

Sing out loud

I can't find the words to sing

You be my remedy

My song

My song

I'll sing with what's left of me"

--"Sing it Out", by Switchfoot

"The shadow proves the sunshine"

--"The Shadow Proves the Sunshine", by Switchfoot

"Looking for signs in the night sky

Wishing that I wasn't such a nice guy

Wonder what it means to live forever

Wonder what it means to die

I know there's meaning to it all

A little resurrection every time I fall

You got your babies, I got my hearses

Every blessing comes with a set of curses

I got my vices, got my vice verses."

--"Vice Verses", by Switchfoot

"Here's to your bright eyes

Shining like fireflies

These are my souvenirs,

The memory of a lifetime

We were wide-eyed with everything, everything around us

We were enlightened by everything, everything

So I close my eyes and go back in time

I can see you smiling, you're so alive

I close my eyes and go back in time

You were just a child then, and so was I

We were so young, we had no fear

We were so young, we had no idea

That nothing lasts forever

Nothing lasts forever

[...]

Life was just happening

Life was just happening

I wouldn't trade it for anything

My souvenirs"

--"Souvenirs", by Switchfoot

"Lay down

Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You’ve come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across the distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say "We have come now to the end"
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the West"

--"Into the West", by Howard Shore

"We’re still smilin as the day goes by

and how come nobody
ever knows the reasons why

Burry you deep so far
you can't see
If you're like me
who wears a broken
heart on your sleeve

Pains is troubles that
you know so well
Either time don't
It can't or it just won't tell

I'm not the type to say
I told you so
I think the hardest part
of holding on is lettin it go

I don't know what time it is
or whose the one to blame for this
Do what I believe what I can't see
And how do you know
which way the wind blows

Cause I can feel it all around
I'm lost between the sound
And just when I think I know
there she goes

Goodbye for now
Goodbye for now
So long"

--"Goodbye for Now", by P.O.D.

"Until the sea of glass we meet
At last completed and complete
Where tide and tear and pain subside
And laughter drinks them dry
I'll be waiting"

--"Restless", by Switchfoot

"But I'm not sentimental

This skin and bones is a rental
And no one makes it out alive

Until I die I'll sing these songs
On the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong

Where the weak are finally strong
Where the righteous right the wrongs
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong
[...]
And on the final day I die
I want to hold my head up high
I want to tell You that I tried
To live it like a song

And when I reach the other side
I want to look You in the eye
And know that I've arrived
In a world where I belong

In a world where I belong
In a world where I belong
Where I belong
Where I belong

I still believe we can live forever
You and I we begin forever now
Forever now
Forever
I still believe in us together
You and I we're here together now
Together now
Forever now"

--"Where I Belong", by Switchfoot

"Till He returns or calls me home

Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand."

--"In Christ Alone", by Keith Getty

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul."

--"It is Well with My Soul", by Horatio Spafford

I'm sure there are more, but I'm also sure that you probably didn't even read all of those. To be honest, I realize that there is no way to adequately express what I went through, and what I am still going through. But I did notice two recurring themes in all of the above excerpts. First, the idea of where we belong. Janee is where she belongs. I am not. This is not my home. Janee is finally home. I should not lament the departure of a stranger for her true home, simply because I am not yet leaving. Second, there is the concept of life being a song. Janee lived her life like a song. To be honest, I lost the words to my song recently. But through all of this, even when I cannot feel it, I can trust God to simply take what broken life I have and make it a song for Him to sing. Indeed, that is all I can ever do.

I don't claim to be fine. I don't claim to be done processing. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that grief is not a process. It is a cycle. At some points, I find myself unable to accept what has happened. At others, I simply break. And still at others, I realize that, while I am not yet made whole, that one day I will be. Janee just had that happen a bit sooner than I did. Will I ever leave this cycle? I do not think so. I think grief is not something inspired by an event, but rather a harsh reality of a fallen world. To live in this world is to grieve. Sure, eventually the rawness of her death will fade as I grow to rely on God more and more. But I will never again walk on two legs until I reach the other side. This I know. What I am currently learning, however, is that I never have. It just wasn't until something pushed me over that I realized it.

I don't claim to be wise. I don't claim to be able to transcend my current situation and speak general truth. All I know is what I see and feel and what I know to be true. That is what I have tried to communicate. Whether or not I succeeded is for you to decide.