Today marks three months since Midi and Nathan died and the lives of those left behind changed forever. I visited the gravesite today after work. I've been there a handful of times, but never alone until today. It was good to go today - good in the sense that it was real. Since no one was around I got to cry as loud as I wanted to, pray as earnestly as I could, and talk to them without feeling watched in any way.
Before my wife and son died my experiences with death were limited to grandparents. While I grieved losing them, what I'm experiencing now is a category unto its own, which (thankfully) not many that I've come across have experienced. I used to think that visiting gravesites was pointless. I confess that I used to look down on those who did, thinking stupidly that talking to their dead loved ones and sitting on the grass was a waste of time and not helpful. I even thought it illogical to leave flowers. All is different now. Going to visit the graves feels right. I don't feel that it is pointless. The first time I went, I felt the urge to talk to Midi and Nathan. The thinking part of me believed that they wouldn't hear me. But my heart told me that it was OK and maybe even good...for me. I also wondered how God felt about me talking to them. So before I addressed Midi and Nathan, I prayed to God. I told Him that I was going to talk to Midi and Nathan. And I told Him that if it was wrong or weird in any way, that He would get over it. Such is my relationship with God.
Lucas has been to the gravesite a couple of times, but I don't think that it is helpful for him. I think it is too abstract. Maybe some day it will be meaningful for him.
I've been told that the grief will come in waves. I have found this to be true so far. After three months, every day has not been a tearfest, but most have. For the past three or four days, I feel like I've been hit by one of the biggest waves of grief so far. Parts of yesterday and the day before were hardly bearable. I'm not sure that there is a trigger this time. It may just be a normal spike, like how it is when you are at the beach and the occasional big wave comes by. There have been times during this wave that I felt that I was going to drown. Or it may be that I've thought through my process of grief so much that my brain is taking a break and allowing my heart to take greater control of my body for a while. I can only hope that this wave will end soon because I can't take much more.