I died on February 8th 2016 and everything in my being followed suit. My preconceived notions of my own strength and dignity died, my ideas about God and His plans for me, died too. To put it in an ancient term I was brought low. Every thought I had up to that point vanished in one split second. I stepped out of my morning shower wrapped the towel around my body and ran to the phone recognizing my husbands ringtone. “Hello!” ” Honey where are you?” ” I’m at home, just getting out of the shower, why?” ” Are you sitting down?” My heart sank, the words no one wants to hear were being spoken in my ear by the person I most loved. “Honey I think Chile was in an accident, no one will tell me much, there is someone coming to the house to tell us from the Coroners Office . ” “Jason, where was the accident? ” “Washoe Valley.” I howled in agony, “Jason Chile is dead if he was in the accident in Washoe Valley its all over the news.”
I remember waking up that morning day after the Superbowl, turning on the local news on my radio, sipping my first cup of coffee in bed, my normal routine. I heard the newscasters say that a young man had been hit by a car in Washoe Valley, it had been a fatality, the name wasn’t being released because the family hadn’t been informed. ” Oh Lord, I just pray for that young man, I pray for his family, Lord please help them.” After my prayers I headed into what would be ultimately the worst day of my life, not even knowing I had just been praying for myself and my son.
After Jason told me he was on his way to me I hung up the phone. I fell to my knees and I screamed at the top of my lungs and I wept. God no! God no! This isn’t my story Lord, no! This can’t be what you have for me. But it was what He had for me and my soul knew it. I heard no audible voice but everything in my spirit kept repeating over and over, do you know? I would answer my spirit, yes I know. I knew this was happening, I knew God allowed it. I knew He was good. I knew this was a temporary circumstance in light of heaven, but I also knew this was awful and I knew the darkness would creep in. There on the floor of my home I wept, screamed and worshiped. I always thought in tragedy that all the scripture that I had memorized would flood my heart and comfort me, but I literally couldn’t even remember the 23 Psalm, but my soul knew the song of worship and there I sang the most broken song in all my life, “Oh Lord you’re beautiful your face is all I see and when your eyes are on this child your Grace abounds to me.” How could my soul know things my heart and my being could not accept, purely by the grace of God I suspect.
Darkness, dreams, restless nights and crashing wave-like pain, this would be my existence for now. Although, little slices of strength and pockets of joy would show up enveloped in my grief. Great multitudes of beautiful humankind were always a hidden treasure in a gloomy day and flowers and wine were never wasted on me. Joy would be so different to me now so contrast to my tragedy so much, much more powerful and tangible, but I knew My Grief Journey, my heart shattering grief journey, had only just begun……