A Different Kind of Hard


Of the dozens of the Peace of my Heart bears that have found their way into the hands of grieving parents over the last couple of years, very few have gone to someone I know personally.  Even fewer have been hand-delivered rather than mailed.  I had an opportunity to hand-deliver one such bear to a new friend recently.


This sweet friend faced what would have been her dear child's 5th birthday.  She remarked that she thought it would get easier, but it hasn't.  She called it a different kind of hard.  As I reflected on my own nearly 3-year journey, I completely get that.

The obvious heartache is there and always will be.  What I hadn't considered before, and what's made my last year such a terribly difficult one, is the collateral damage of grief.  The knowing that I'm not the same...and never will be.  The not fitting into my old life.  The realization that some of the people who were there in the beginning just aren't any more.  The deep sadness of relationships that couldn't survive my brokenness.

As the next anniversary looms ahead, I deal with flashbacks...from the hospital, from the funeral, from the last conversations with my mom.  I stay up too late because I'm afraid that sleep won't come quickly enough to keep those mind movies away.

There's a strange sense of relief, even a sense of accomplishment at getting through another birthday, holiday or anniversary.  I'll be glad to be on the other side of August again.  As much as I try to be all there for my family, there are times when I'm just not.

It truly is a different kind of hard.