I was doing the math in the middle of the night, in my head, because I read the online post of a grieving parent in the middle of the night, and it was the first time I counted days, instead of months, or years, or decades, just as he had done. I initially came up with 16,000 days as a close estimate, and with a calculator in the morning, realized it was closer to 17,000 days, and I was still counting, and in the not-so-distant future, I would still be counting beyond 17,000. I’m not sure why the enormity of a number overwhelmed my emotions and thinking, nor why my thinking could not set it aside. It did make me realize a number doesn’t change anything. My daughter did die at birth almost 17,000 days ago, and I have lived these last 17,000 days without her. And “her,” our Tonia, encompasses soooo much! – the milestones of childhood and adulthood, the growth, the fulfillments, the love and nurturing that secures relationships and families, and still more – none of which happened on this earth, but all of it had been hoped for. And yet, “grief” is from our perspective and not hers. Tonia’s home is in Heaven, and I can only imagine and delight in, from a distance, all the joys and perfections that have been hers these 17,000 days, almost and still counting -- the total relationships she has had with each member of the Godhead, the relationships she has had with Old Testament believers, and with those who witnessed Christ on earth, and responded to Him, and with those who have framed the history of Christianity and those who gave impetus to the faith of her earthly family, but like Tonia, they preceded us in death. The grief I have had, and her Dad has had, and siblings too who never even knew her tangibly in an earthly sense, have had, that grief has belonged to us, and not to her.
We are told that time heals grief, and though the statement holds some threads of truth, I have only seen true “healing” within a relationship with the God Tonia knows and experiences in all the realities of Heaven. That same God has been active and present here too from the very day Tonia entered into His eternal home. Did I always know that? No, and my journey of grief has experienced many of the nuances of grief that you have experienced, but as I look back over the last almost 17,000 days, I have learned the reality of God’s presence, the healing of His grace, His enabling, and His truth, and the incredible ability God has to bring beauty – compassion, identification, the compulsion to share truth and my own presence with others – from the ashes of tragedy. Does “healing” mean I forget my child? Absolutely not. My love for Tonia is greater today than it has ever been. My awareness of her living here too through the ongoing light and influence of a life that was simply birthed here, but fully lived in Heaven, that awareness gives a pulsing gratitude to the God who created her, and whose purposes are still being fulfilled. Can the waves of consuming grief still come? Again, yes, unexpectedly, profoundly, but always with the knowledge that the God who gave Tonia a home almost 17,000 days ago, is still loving and caring for her mom.
17,000 days. Maybe your journey has just begun. Maybe the days you count are already in the thousands. Maybe your counting has surpassed my own. But our God doesn’t change. He longs to bring healing. He longs to wrap you in His love and His grace. He longs to bring beauty from the ashes of your own tragedy. And in all of your days, He will be honored as you honor and love and remember your child.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 4:16 - 5:5; 2 Corinthians 1:3 - 7)
