Black Cloud

Sometimes I feel like a black cloud. Everyone knows I'm there, but no one knows what to say or how to act. There are a few brave souls who really take me on, but for the most part, conversations are shallow, frustrating, and sometimes fake.

Do you remember this post? I wrote it just 6 days after Joshua died. I'm not sure if many people read it.

I want to add to that post. I want to tell you exactly what I need (this will apply to Shane, Caleb and Hannah as well). I don't expect everyone to go along with this, but if you are unsure of what to say or do, this post is for you.

1. Remember the 16th (his birthday) and the 6th (his death). Those days are exceptionally hard for me. I relive the joy of delivering Joshua, I relive the hope and fear that his birth brought. I remember the complete devastation of his death. I try to remember the way he felt, the sounds he made, and the way he smelled. Please don't hesitate to tell me that you are thinking of him on either of those days. My biggest fear is that he will be forgotten. It also helps to know that others are thinking of him and of us on our hardest days of the month- if you are, tell us!

2. If you ask me how I'm doing, expect the good and bad. The hardest question for me is when people ask how I'm doing. I never know what to say. Do they want the real answer? Do they want to talk, or are they being formal and just asking without really wanting to know? What will they do if I say I'm having a rough morning? Just know, that if you ask that question, you may not get "I'm doing alright." Help me carry this burden by listening.

3. If I say I'm alright, that doesn't mean I've gotten over his death. If I say I'm doing alright, that probably means for that moment, or that day. There are some days that are worse than others- those days come for no apparent reason and as time goes on, the bad days are REALLY bad.

4. If I'm crying in worship, the best thing you can do is leave me alone. Usually I get extremely emotional when I'm worshipping or praying. There is a literal battle going on in my heart and in my mind. God and I are going at it, and I'm trying to get back to the point of surrender. If I'm sobbing and snotting all over the place, feel free to give me a tissue, but don't feel like you have to come and hug me. The biggest thing I need at that point is your prayer. After the service, feel free to hug me all you want. That is usually when I feel the most awkward- when people can tell I've been crying because of the tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes but don't know what to do.

5. Do not simply ignore that fact that Joshua is gone. He is still part of our family. Even though he's not here, he still has a place in our family. It helps my healing when you bring up his name. It calms my heart when you hug me silently without saying a word. To know that you are praying is huge. Don't act like he didn't exist- that is the worst thing possible.

6. Listen to Caleb and Hannah when they talk about Joshua. Caleb and Hannah have been hit hard by Joshua's death. They know that he had a broken heart. They saw him connected to tubes, wires, and machines. They saw him with his chest open. They saw him in the casket. They felt his cold skin after he died. They saw their mommy and daddy wailing. They have comforted us when we have been able to do nothing but cry. If they talk about their baby brother being dead, talk to them about it.