What’s in a Name?

 

On this day in 2024, my sweet Jessica went to be with Jesus. It is the day of our greatest pain, but the day she was no longer in pain. We want her here with us, but she is where she needs to be in complete wholeness and freedom. 

Wanting her back, in some ways, is selfish on my part. But I want her back not only for me, but also, I think, more for her children. They should not be facing life without their mother. But of course, I cannot change that. 

When sin entered the world, it also created an imbalance. There is an imbalance not only in our spiritual world, but also in the physical one. That imbalance is the root of diseases, like cancer, including the cancer that claimed our sweet girl's life on this earth. 

That is the closest I can come to understanding the "why" question. “Why” will never be completely answered this side of heaven. I am getting closer to "living with that," but not acceptance. I'm not sure I will ever achieve acceptance.

Interestingly, Job never knew "why" the horrible things happened to him. God never explained it to him.  The whole book of Job is about him wrestling with the whys of losing his children, his wealth, and his health. God's responses essentially attest to God's wisdom, sovereignty, and His character. Job ends the book with: 

“Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.” (Job 42:3)

We may not receive answers here, but we need to move toward trusting God's character and purpose. Not quite sure I'm there yet, but I'm working on it. 

So what do you call the date that marks the day when your loved one left this earth? 

Many refer to it as an "anniversary," but to me, an anniversary is a time of celebration. I don't feel like celebrating this day. 

Some call it an "angelversary," but that doesn't sit well with me either. Theologically, it is not correct, but besides that, it is still a celebration, and I'm not comfortable with that term either. 

A friend of mine who also lost her child calls it his "Thanoversary." Thano is the Greek word for death, so that works for her. 

I asked ChatGPT what do some people call this date, and one of the phrases it gave me was "Death Anniversary," which sounds morbid to me. I don't have an aversion to the word, death, but again, that anniversary piece doesn't resonate with me. 

Another was "Heaven Anniversary," which I may use at some point in the future, since it's recognizing the day as a promotion of sorts. 

Recently, I registered a star for Jess and the date of registration as March 12, 2024, so I guess that signifies a heavenly destination. 

All that being said, I still don't know what to call it, other than connecting it to the worst day of my life. But I will look upon Jessica's memory with love and with peace. 

I can say, I look at her picture now, and feel more love than pain. I've been told that it is a positive step, but what are steps? 

Are these so-called steps forward something that makes other people happier, more comfortable, so they don't have to witness my grief? 

I'm not sure. 

I'm also not sure what it means to me. I just know that most of the time I smile when I look at her photo.

Well, whatever this all means (and I know this post is all over the map), today I will go to Jessica's bench to hang out and chat with her, and drink a peppermint tea (her favourite) then maybe I'll go get myself some cotton candy ice cream (also her favourite). 

I love you, sweet Jessica. I was going to say, "more than you know," but I guess that where you are, you really do know already, don't you? 

The Chosen Revisited

Mike and I have watched the whole Chosen series. We got to the series late in the game, and when we discovered it, we went on a “binge-watch.” Watching it ignited a path to healing in my heart. Witnessing the humanity of Jesus made me feel like He sees me and He gets me. I can relate to that. There were touching scenes throughout the episodes, and while artistic license was used, it truly gave the Scripture meaning and colour for me. 

Even though we have seen the series, an email promotion to watch an episode each day throughout Lent sparked our desire to watch it again. Since there are 40 episodes for 40 days, it would lead us right into Holy Week. 

I have to admit, there are episodes and scenes now that we both cannot recall seeing. We watched it in 2024, the year of the "Blur" for us. But then again, maybe it's much like Scripture. You can read a chapter or other portion of the bible countless times, but then one day you read it and say, "Why have I not seen that before?!" God speaks to us differently and at different times of the day, depending on what we need.

One particular scene from season 3, episode 2, still stands out clearly in my memory from the first viewing. It is where Jesus instructed the disciples to go on their missionary journey in twos. He gave them each an area to share the Gospel and the authority to speak, heal the sick, and drive out demons. You could tell from their faces that the disciples were terrified and overwhelmed by this commission. 

After their meeting, little James asked to speak with Jesus privately. Little James has a disability regarding his hip, and his concern is regarding his new role of healing the sick, when he, himself, has not been healed. He essentially asks why Jesus has not healed him, given that He has healed others. Little James did not like being a burden to those around him. He was also concerned that he would not be able to travel as quickly and would slow down the journey for his partner. 

Jesus acknowledged Little James and recognized his concerns. Jesus explained that each of them has something that presents a challenge, noting, with a chuckle, that Simon's temper is one of them. Jesus asks Little James if he wants to be healed, and of course, James responds with a resounding, "YES!" Jesus then tells him that He could heal him, but chooses not to because He trusts him. 

I have to admit, the "trust" word threw me at first, but Jesus goes on to explain that while many require the healing to have faith and believe, how much more powerful would his testimony be because of the faith he has, despite his circumstances? Jesus goes on to say that inspiring others to have strength in weakness focuses on a more eternal perspective. He assures James that in time, he will be fully healed. He just needs to be patient. Of course, Jesus is referring to James's complete healing in heaven.

I remember watching this for the first time and identifying Jessica in the character of Little James. While we all earnestly prayed for her healing on earth, God chose not to heal her. Her experience, like James’s, showed strength despite suffering and weakness. 

As a mother, her suffering was so painful to witness, but when I reflect, Jessica's faith in Jesus was reignited during her weakness. She shared Jesus with others around her. God entrusted her with that difficult journey and message, revealing the strength of her faith despite the suffering. 

I remember the first time, saying to Mike, while the tears flowed, that I wish God had not trusted her so much. I still feel that in some ways, today. Perhaps for selfish reasons, because she was ultimately and perfectly healed in the presence of the Father.

As I look back on Jessica’s journey and my own, I think, “What next?” He trusted me with the message of faith in spite of my circumstances, I suppose. But when I think of my prolonged season of doubt and questioning, is that evidence of faith? 

When I reflect more honestly, I believe it is. While I don’t believe God tests us, my faith has been deeply tested. I have been on the precipice of losing my faith. Not that I would ever have given up on God and my faith, but I stared into that abyss and realized how people in similar circumstances could do exactly that. 

I guess that's one of the reasons I want to write a book. I want to share with others that it’s possible to wrestle with God and question His will without losing your faith. I am so thankful that He is a patient God and willing to work with me and wait for me. 

Who Am I Now?

 

The past three years have been topsy-turvy to say the least. In January 2023, I was working as a full-time care coordinator at a hospital. 

My role was defined. 

I was a nurse, working full-time with a 90-minute commute each day. I didn't have much time for anything else. 

Yes, I was a wife, mother, and grandmother, but fitting everything into a 24-hour day was a challenge. It was a busy life, but I knew who I was and made time for my family on weekends and days off. 

Then the decision was made to seek a change in my position due to policy changes. I applied for posted positions within the organization, but was unable to change roles. 

With prayer, I felt that God was leading me to retire. I wasn't going to retire completely, but with my new grandson on the way, I thought it was a perfect time to take some time off to help Jessica. 

My retirement date was February 28, 2023, marking a clear new chapter. 

Then on February 2, I woke in the wee hours with intractable pain. My last month at work was sick time due to a herniated disc. I wasn't sure how quickly I'd recover to help Jess with the new baby by the end of March, but I prayed I would be back on track. I was able to be present for the baby's birth, albeit with my trusty cane. 

Suddenly, uncertainty crept in as my circumstances changed. 

Jessica's diagnosis, treatment, and death brought on another shift. I became her caregiver and helped her family, especially her children. My new grandson was just three months old at her diagnosis, so I became his primary caregiver. My nursing background helped during Jessica's treatments and hospitalizations. My responsibilities were both uncertain and defined in different ways. 

The care of the children and the home became my priority, especially after Jess died. My son-in-law needed help navigating life and the children. I wanted to help in any way I could, without being too overbearing. In many ways, I was doing this for Jessica. Helping her family adjust to their new routines while keeping the familiar rhythms of life that bore her signature.

Those first weeks of caring for my grandson were busy, but I loved it so much. I was with him 5 days a week, and it gave me purpose when I didn't have a reason to get out of bed in the morning. My role was devoted to him. 

Then, the first layer was removed. He went to daycare. While it was a needed transition for him and the future, I mourned that change. I even wanted to care for him part-time, but that wasn't an option. 

Daycare has proved to be a good move for him, but I felt that some of my role had been taken away. Bereavement seemed to hit me harder after that change. I had more time to think, mourn, and miss Jessica. 

Even though my role was changing, I still had a somewhat routine. I picked my grandson up from daycare to "help out" my son-in-law. Then the day came when he no longer "needed" me for that role. 

While it was a good thing that he wanted to establish his routine because, as he said, "This is my life now," I still felt the tears fall when I read his text. 

I still helped out where I could. I was going to their home once a week to do some cleaning and help "catch up" on the laundry. Three young children go through a lot of clothes in a week. 

It made my day busy, but I loved it. I was doing this for Jess, to honour her. 

As I felt better, I started to make a meal for them on Wednesdays, which was a huge deal for me. I had not been in a meal-prep rhythm for some time. While my son-in-law was doing a good job of meal prep for the kids, I wanted to "help out." 

I also started babysitting my grandson two to three nights a week while my other grandson had soccer. I still had a role. 

Then, more recently, the direction came that, although the help was appreciated, my son-in-law wanted to assume more responsibility. 

His message was clear, thoughtful, and compassionate. His words were more along the lines of wanting me to be "grandma" to the kids, and not to be wrapped up in the household chores. 

He said that these things were his responsibility. 

I grappled with where I went wrong. I recognize times when I may have been perceived as "taking over," and while that was welcome at one time, I believe my son-in-law is now growing in his role. 

I also recognized, from his words, that these were the words Jessica would have used with me. That actually warmed my heart just thinking about it. 

So now, what is my role? I have more time, especially on Wednesdays, to be available, but for what? 

I have taken courses in grief education to be a support for others walking the grief journey, but am I ready? 

I can still be grandma and help care for the children, but it will be a challenge for me not to automatically help with chores when I'm there. I must respect my son-in-law's wishes. 

There may be times, especially in the summer, when he may need my help a bit more, but I need to wait to be asked. This is a hard thing for this taskmaster, but I believe in respecting my son-in-law's wishes and growth. 

This is what God needs me to do, and perhaps in this process, I will discover "who I am" now.

Seeking who I am in Christ and where He wants me to be now is part of this journey I am on, called life, the 2026 version.