The Mystery of Mourning

May 6, 2016

Last night, Abby came downstairs in tears. “I just can’t believe we’re moving. I can’t imagine it.”

Joe had taken down all the wall stuff in her room, packed up boxes of stuffed animals. I could see her, lying in bed, trying to sleep when everything looked so different. And the evening had been busy with homework and teacher appreciation gifts. No real downtime.

She was overwhelmed.

We cuddled. Watched TV until the tears dried up. Went to bed.

I couldn’t sleep for a while. Kept asking myself how we could do this to her.

How could we rip her away from her life?

What worried her, though, wasn’t what you’d think… leaving friends, making new ones, and so on. She cried about new people moving into our house. She worried that they’d rip down walls, not treat the house nicely. It’s the only home she’s known, I remembered. She was 3 months old when we moved in. She’s grown up playing in the cul-da-sac with the Youngs next door. She moved from crib to bed in this house. There are still apple juice stains on the carpet from her sippy cups. Her whole life’s been here.

This is so hard.

Abby’s been brave through it all. Tears come only when given too much time to think about things. Same with me. Whenever I start thinking too much, the tears come. “I’ve been thinking too much, help me, I’ve been thinking too much,” that Twenty-One Pilots song came out at just the right time for us (can totes relate).

There’s a huge difference between having depression and being depressed. But, right now, Abby and I at least are in that depressed stage of things. The stage of giving up good things, letting people and places go. It’s not easy.

And tears aren't the only thing.

For me, I spotted the signs early…. I couldn’t write or stick to routines. Didn’t exercise and stopped caring to. Anxiety wasn’t just periodic but constant. All I wanted to do was sleep. I’ve been emotional and moody. Always on the edge. Like Abby, I knew the plan, but couldn’t imagine it.

When I teared up around my good friend Marsha, she explained, “You’re in mourning.” It struck me funny. That’s a death word.

But, she’s right.

We’re in a weird kind of mourning. Losing our lives here in order to gain new life somewhere else. But, we can’t see that new life yet - it's too much of a mystery. All we can see is the sad.

"The nights of crying your eyes out

give way to days of laughter."

Psalm 30:5 The Message (MSG)