Rawness of mourning

12 hours through the worst 24 hours of my life up until now.

My eyes are swollen.

The tears still come.

It’s wrong, it’s painful, it’s not supposed to happen. But it does, and it’s happening to me.

I don’t know why, but I know I loved you already.

No face, no hands, no voice, nothing but a memory.

A sign said yes, a week later became a loud, unmistakable, gut wrenching no.

I never met you, but I loved you already.

I can’t think of the “what ifs”, the “would haves”, the “should haves”. It’s too much, too painful, too many tears.

I’m just sad.

So sad.

I loved you already.

To my angel baby: I’m processing your loss, my loss, your life, your death, your existence, and, now, my emptiness.

If I already loved you so, I know you’re in much safer hands now. More loving hands. Eternal, secure, sovereign hands.

I’m comforted by prayers, and truth that many who loved you are also in His hands. Already, and not yet.

I already loved you, but I have not yet loved you. Not yet held you, not yet seen you, not yet told you.

My angel baby.

I miss you. I’m sad. I weep.

I love you.

Father, I do not understand… “Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief”.

Soli Deo Gloria