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?
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