I read a post from a young father who lost his young daughter, I am assuming to cancer. It was heartfelt and faithful… to both our God and his daughter. It truly had me moved and hopeful that I am just as strong. He mentioned the hope he has to pull him through, for without hope, we will not survive. He is so right! Faith has been the rope I hold onto, and hope is the stronghold knowing I will see my son again. It is with that faith and hope I march forward every single day.
For those of us in this unwanted club of parents who have lost a child, hope is a factor in how we survive. With no hope and only despair, we succumb to the dark hole that sucks faith right out of our soul and life from the living. I have seen it and it breaks my heart. Grief takes many forms. One of my first blog posts describes it very straight-forward. I didn’t see it as much then as I do now, but hope is the centerpiece. We have a choice: go skydiving and live for your loved one, or dig a hole right next to them and die with them. Both stand for the love you had for them, so the choice is ours. One of the things I think that pulls us into the darkness, besides no hope, is we are afraid others will think we don’t care. Far from the truth! I am not sure there is a gauge to measure that, but I don’t believe that is the case. There is no judgement on how people grieve. We can only decide for ourselves which route we take. But, what would our loved ones want us to do?
When my father died, my grandmother was still alive. She was 87 years old. She lived another 8 years after his passing and never spoke his name, at least that I can recall. I asked my mother once, “why doesn’t grandma talk about dad?” She said that it must cause her great pain to think about him no longer being here. Me, I wanted to talk about him all the time! I never wanted to forget the stories or memories I had. I was afraid not to talk about him. The loss of my son is no different.
I hold onto faith and know he lives on in my heart and that I will see him again when my Earthly time is done as I will with all those who have gone before me. My faith tells me this will happen and I believe it with all of my heart. No one can prove me wrong, so if it makes me face life head on, so be it! Faith is the rope, hope is my strength. It doesn’t mean I don’t have to hang on tight for the ride, but must keep my faith and hope during those times when the palms are slipping knowing in my heart of hearts, a glorious reunion awaits. And, as always, I cry because he is gone, but I smile because he was here!
#faithandhope #gonebutnotforgotten #wewillmeetagain #thedashinthemiddle
One thought on “Faith is the rope… and hope is where I get the strength to hold on!”
You`re so right, Christina! It`ll be 50 years next week for Andy. You never forget or lose hope to see them again. Faith and Hope is all we have. The love never left!!
LikeLiked by 1 person