On this day many years ago, another mama’s boy flew from her protective, caring, ever-loving hands of earth into the eternal unknown. He was gone from This earth and though it was foretold he would rise again, I imagine his mother had just as much trouble saying goodbye, after all, nobody else had ever risen from the grave before. And nobody would after, either. It was unjust, unfair, undeserved, and traumatic. Much like the loss I deal with every day. And you. And a thousand other mothers just like us.
I find that the time of his death is a celebration time these days- because 3 days later, her boy arose from his death- as foretold-and she got to spend another 40 days with him earth-side before waving goodbye until they met again heaven-side.
What an amazing days those 40 must have been. I can only imagine the deep gratitude she treasured every moment with him, every smile, every conversation… she had the opportunity to say all the things she wished she said, to do the things she wished she would have done, to hug him the “one more time” that we other mothers missed. She got the moments that we all know we would grab and never let go of if given the opportunity.
Her son was Jesus, the Christ.
My son was Philip- now held in heaven in the arms of her son because of his death and resurrection.
He died on Good Friday, and this year my sons heaven day falls on Good Friday.
How does a loss mother even deal with that? I can tell you the grief wave that’s already encompassing me is larger than I’ve had in a while. So often Jesus’ death on Good Friday is “passed over” because we know the ending- a Celebration because eternity became ours 3 days later. My son is in heaven because her son died and rose again. I am eternally grateful and yet eternally grieving as well. Because the depth of losing a son on that day seems so much deeper this year. I can relate in so many ways. And I can tell you that though I don’t fully understand the “why” of it… celebration is the farthest things from my mind. I never thought about his birthday and heaven day falling on a holiday and how that would affect me. But here we are stating it in the face like a dragon breathing fire inching closer and closer as you’re backed up to the wall with nowhere to go. You know he’s gonna get you and you just stand there frozen, mesmerized by the flames as they come closer and closer to consuming you.
The Easter egg hunts seem almost mocking these days. How could someone have a fickle thing like an egg hunt on the day my son went from earth back into heaven- never to return. And how do I turn around the next day and celebrate a mamas son who did come back, and the moments she did get with him… and not live in jealousy and pain and anger?
It feels like a new level of grief- one I’ve never navigated before. One I don’t particularly want to endure. One I definitely done feel prepared for. Some days I wish we could just take a break from this life and live in the innocence of the ‘before’.