I found this post in my “Drafts” folder. Written on December 12th, I hadn’t gotten around to posting it. It’s a testimony to the dramatic healing that was taking place in Kalkidan and in our family. We felt “almost normal.” I could weep over not having more time to enjoy this sweet spot (and I do weep over it). To be honest, I feel ripped off; after all the hard work for Kalkidan and for us, she’s gone. It still seems impossible. Over and over I remind myself of what is true: God loves her, God loves us, he is good, he is sovereign, he is wise, and his plans are far better than mine.
Some days we feel it. We wake up, look at each other, and there is no fear in our hearts. We don’t dread the start of the day or wonder how we’ll survive. We don’t feel the need to shield our younger ones from a coming storm.
We feel almost normal.
There are many supports in place like planned activities every Saturday. No homework at home – a tutorial class ends each day and allows homework to be completed at school. We sign up for sports, even when it is terribly inconvenient, because it fills hours that would be problematic if left empty. We try not to alter the routine at all – a small change can lead to a significant challenge and frankly, it’s just not worth it.
I try to separate myself from the things that don’t matter, like clothing or hair choices that don’t seem ideal (although we do expect modesty). I keep my expectations about the condition of the bedroom and bathroom low. Cleaning once a week on Saturday is required, but my “clean” and my child’s “clean” are quite a bit different. If a school binder is a mess, I stay out of it and let her teacher deal with it. If she eats Halloween candy rather than the healthy after-school snack I prepared, so be it.
In the grand scheme of learning to live in a family, these things are low on the priority list. Most of all, we want to build on the hard work we’ve all done and continue moving forward.
And that’s as far as I got – I have no idea what else I planned to say, but this seems to sum up what I was thinking in December. We felt “almost normal” and now we don’t feel normal at all. While the world around us carries on, we are still focused on this deep and profound loss. The accident and all that followed still takes a primary place in our minds. There is a time to grieve, and we are in it.
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