Heavy.
I got a call from my mom that my uncle died Saturday morning, 4am. We were never really close. My mom and my aunt have somehow been able to remain as close as 7 year old little girls. So through that, I am closer to my aunt and can feel the pain she is going through. As with any kind of grief, it comes in waves.
I hate death. I really do. In my coming years in the hospital I will probably see and experience more than my share of it. I'm sure every time it will hit just as hard.
I think as humans we try to find some sort of sense in this. We look for answers and we look for places where the choas slows. Often times it doesn't, the waves often wash you away and there are no answers. It doesn't stop when we think it should. This is probably harder to realize than the original situation. So where is God in this.
My mom said something to me the other day, how she told my aunt to pound her feet, stomp the ground, scream, to just let it out.
We blame God. We're told not to, but I think he can take it. I think he would rather us blame him than to blame ourselves. He can take the pain, and he is stronger. When the pain subsides, he is there, with whispers of "that's enough, for now..."
It's hard when there aren't answers. It's hard to swallow that there probably never will be.
That's enough...for now.