People say ‘seven’ can be a lucky number. I will say it depends on the situation in which “seven’ is being used. Here is a little play on words. Instead of “Magnificent Seven,” I am going with “Significant Seven.” It is a heavy number in my world right now. It is the number of years (and saying ‘years’ is not easy at all) since my son has been gone. So much to unpack into the number ‘Seven’ right now. It is just a number, right?! I decided to search why “SEVEN” is so heavy for me. Here is what I discovered…
I will start with from the day we were told my son died. The first seven days were a blur. I planned a funeral for my child, something no parent ever has on their bucket list. I maybe slept seven minutes at a time before waking to realize it wasn’t a nightmare, but my reality. Like our Lord, on the seventh day, I rested (not sure that actually happened either, but I tried). I went back to work on day eight. I still am not sure how I made it through. With, and by, the grace of God is all I can say.
I found many biblical sayings stress the number ‘seven’ as well. According to the internet, the number or word “seven” appears in scripture over 700 times. Maybe that is part of the reason for the weight of “seven” I am experiencing. I have felt the Lord’s presence more than ever during this time. Seven being biblical just makes sense!
In relation to the biblical citings, in 2 Kings 5:10, a message was sent to “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.” Hmmm… Maybe this seventh year is a cleansing moment for me. Each anniversary of this date is me being “washed” and now maybe I am restored. I don’t think so, but it gives me hope that my sadness may be cleansed and a new light is being cast.
Exodus 22:30 “Do the same with your cattle and your sheep. Let them stay with their mothers for seven days, but give them to me on the eighth day.” This could be Cody staying with me for these seven years, and on the eighth, he is maybe released from Purgatory or, maybe I release him to God and try to quit holding on to every detail I can physically touch of my boy: time to hold the memories and not the items. Not sure I can release all of them, but I am willing to remove the tools I trip over in the garage; or possibly, I can put away the shirt I leave near the dryer and stop yelling down the basement steps for him to come get his stuff! I might be able to bring myself to do those.
Genesis 8:12 “He waited seven more days and sent the dove out again, but this time it did not return to him.” I am not sure I want to relate to this one. The scripture makes it sound like I will not see signs of my son. I know it is just an interpretation, but the mind can play awful tricks on the grieving. And, just to be clear, there is no time limit on grieving, so yes, that is still a part of this path I tread…seven years and counting!
Revelation 3:1 ““Write this letter to the angel of the church in Sardis. This is the message from the one who has the sevenfold Spirit of God and the seven stars: I know all the things you do, and that you have a reputation for being alive—but you are dead.” I really don’t want to decipher this one either. I want his spirit to live on and this sounds so final. I speak of him being alive and I know he is dead, but I really don’t like to admit that. I am not in denial. I prefer to think of him as being in another room, a room I cannot enter just yet. I sleep better at night believing it to be this way.
Revelation 15:1 “I saw in Heaven another great and marvelous sign: seven angels with the seven last plagues–last, because with them God’s wrath is complete.” This one gets me because of the world we LIVE in today. I want to say the worst is over, and all is at peace. Then, I watch the news. In trying to delve deeper into the translation, the internet says this: “seven angels with seven plagues that conclude the outpouring of God’s wrath on the wicked. The event causes the victors over the beast, his image, and number to celebrate. They play harps and sing the song of Moses and of the Lamb. These are songs of redemption.” This explanation I can relate to a little more. It doesn’t sound as morbid and tragic as my initial translation. This gives me hope and victory in the “seven” that is so heavy on me today.
My son is far from the only “son” someone has lost. I am working diligently to lessen that number. I speak to so many and pray they hear me and hear the words I am saying, but, like Cody, they probably think they are invincible and this would never happen to them. I can only hope he was saved from a worse fate because then I was also spared a worse fate. And it could have been worse, and I know that with every ounce of my being. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way at all and he was sitting next to me telling me how I think the worst of every possible thing that can happen. As a mom, it is what we do!
Seven years he has been gone and I want to reflect on the amount of memories he left us with, and how many I have because of the people he had brought into our lives, both before and after death. I am a different person because of that boy, and I hope and pray that is a good thing. If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times, “I had two choices to start with: live for him or die with him.” I chose to live. I chose to be a better version of myself to honor him and despite the devil’s slight of hand taking him from me at the age of 24. If you don’t believe the devil was involved, you have never met a person with an addiction. That is the devil in full display. Temptation is the devil’s playground.
As I conclude my thoughts on “seven” years, I am reminded of all I have and that none of us are on this Earth forever. I am far from alone on the list of parents who have lost a child, for whatever situation occurred: accident, war, cancer, homicide, and, unfortunately, suicide. Not one parent can escape the possibility, but, when faced with the reality of it, it seems unbearable. Yet, here I am. I am not any stronger than the next parent in this club. I have faith I will see my son again. It will be as if no time has passed, and all will be good. I am not trying to speed up that process in any way. As stated, when we do meet, it will be as if only seconds have passed. I can wait. Until then, I will rely on every memory I have. I will share every story a million times. I will hold pictures until the coloring fades onto my fingers. I will never stop speaking his name until my last breath. And, as always, I will cry because he is gone, but I will smile because he was here.
#sevenyears #gonebutnotforgotten #forever24 #thedashinthemiddle
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