Friday, February 11, 2011

A Peace That Surpasses All Understanding

Today, in a few quiet moments before I got out of bed, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and started thinking about Rip.  I pictured myself in the delivery room, and someone was laying him in a blanket on my chest.  I could almost feel the soft blanket and the light weight of him in that nook by my chin.

 I stopped myself because none of that ever happened, Rip was taken out of the delivery room before I got to do more than glance at him.  But then I closed my eyes again and let that image come back to me. I can picture him like this, holding him with no wires or monitors between us, this is what he looks like now. 

As time goes on, and I remember more and more about the time Rip was alive, not all of the memories I have are pleasant ones.  Sometimes I lie awake at night and remember a particularly difficult time...I start to panic...before I know it I am back in that moment and my only feeling is one of absolute terror.  But always, always before I reach a point of no return, a voice calls me back that says, "he's okay now, he's okay now, he's okay now."

This picture I have in my mind is perfectly peaceful.  He's okay now.

1 comment:

  1. Anne, That's a beautiful picture of comfort that only comes from God. I can't imagine the grief you are experiencing. A friend of ours in Minneapolis, MN has a blog. I am including a link. I think it would be encouraging as she has gone through what you are going through as she lost a little girl named Felicity. I hope it's not too intrusive to send these posts to you. I wanted to let you know about Molly since so many people who have suffered loss like yours have found comfort in what she says and how she is honest about working through her pain.