June 3
Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. Jeremiah 31:13
The news came unexpectedly as all bad news does. It hung over me like a sentence and I was filled with overwhelming sadness, then the dread of what was ahead. My mother’s illness was terminal; our family unit was about to be broken. She was too young! I ached for my Dad, my siblings, my children, my husband and myself. Hers was to be the first of the many painful losses that my children were to face and to know their Grandmother, whom they loved was suffering, was agonizing for them. I found myself going through the motion of daily responsibilities while creating spaces of time that I needed just to be with her. Alone in the car I sat and wept; driving to and from work, I wept; driving to the hospital and home, I wept. Despite my attempts to prepare for and accept what was ahead, the crushing mourning began before she even left this world. It was nearly impossible to eat and I felt empty inside. I prayed for strength to carry on, for her and my family, and prayed for her to have a peaceful death with all of us gathered. I prayed for patience with those who were not meeting my expectations. But most of all, I thanked God for giving her to us, for her role in giving me life and for the many ways she helped mold me into the person I am. The things that characterize my joy in life, like family, cooking, flowers, gardening, crafts, reading, holiday traditions and even the prayers I said were all influenced by my Mother. Despite the loss I felt, there was much to be grateful for.
God, as he always does, listened to my prayers even though at the time I was feeling abandoned. Oh the loss was still unfathomable, the path of mourning her death had to be followed; but we all were gathered together before she went to God, which was amazing in itself, for my siblings and I were all scattered up and down the east coast. Having everyone make it there before she passed away brought joy to my dear Dad, who was overwhelmed with the loss of the “love of his life.” We had much to be grateful for. Her care had been outstanding - gentle and caring. The outpouring of love and support we received from extended family and friends carried us on clouds of comfort and her funeral Mass was inspiring and beautiful. Her grandchildren learned a lot about faith, enduring love, family strength and God’s presence in all aspects of life. They learned life goes on, no matter how painful a situation may be. But more importantly, that it can go on in joy and thanksgiving.
At one point or another we all mourn someone or something; for we experience many kinds of losses throughout life. But through God’s grace, He is with us through it all; and when we seek His comfort, He is there to turn our mourning once again into gladness and joy.
Let us remember that in our mourning you are with us God, quietly standing with us, holding us in your loving arms. Thank you!
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson
Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. Jeremiah 31:13
The news came unexpectedly as all bad news does. It hung over me like a sentence and I was filled with overwhelming sadness, then the dread of what was ahead. My mother’s illness was terminal; our family unit was about to be broken. She was too young! I ached for my Dad, my siblings, my children, my husband and myself. Hers was to be the first of the many painful losses that my children were to face and to know their Grandmother, whom they loved was suffering, was agonizing for them. I found myself going through the motion of daily responsibilities while creating spaces of time that I needed just to be with her. Alone in the car I sat and wept; driving to and from work, I wept; driving to the hospital and home, I wept. Despite my attempts to prepare for and accept what was ahead, the crushing mourning began before she even left this world. It was nearly impossible to eat and I felt empty inside. I prayed for strength to carry on, for her and my family, and prayed for her to have a peaceful death with all of us gathered. I prayed for patience with those who were not meeting my expectations. But most of all, I thanked God for giving her to us, for her role in giving me life and for the many ways she helped mold me into the person I am. The things that characterize my joy in life, like family, cooking, flowers, gardening, crafts, reading, holiday traditions and even the prayers I said were all influenced by my Mother. Despite the loss I felt, there was much to be grateful for.
God, as he always does, listened to my prayers even though at the time I was feeling abandoned. Oh the loss was still unfathomable, the path of mourning her death had to be followed; but we all were gathered together before she went to God, which was amazing in itself, for my siblings and I were all scattered up and down the east coast. Having everyone make it there before she passed away brought joy to my dear Dad, who was overwhelmed with the loss of the “love of his life.” We had much to be grateful for. Her care had been outstanding - gentle and caring. The outpouring of love and support we received from extended family and friends carried us on clouds of comfort and her funeral Mass was inspiring and beautiful. Her grandchildren learned a lot about faith, enduring love, family strength and God’s presence in all aspects of life. They learned life goes on, no matter how painful a situation may be. But more importantly, that it can go on in joy and thanksgiving.
At one point or another we all mourn someone or something; for we experience many kinds of losses throughout life. But through God’s grace, He is with us through it all; and when we seek His comfort, He is there to turn our mourning once again into gladness and joy.
Let us remember that in our mourning you are with us God, quietly standing with us, holding us in your loving arms. Thank you!
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson