Hold That Space

This post today is in honor of bereaved mothers - and their children.

Today is “September 11th” and most everyone you might ask will remember and observe the day. Before the day arrived, it was being remembered and spoken of. This day, 24 years ago can often carry with it sadness and memories which you don’t want to remember — and some you don’t want to forget either. Do you remember? Is it a date that is unforgettable for you? What do you think and feel when you think of that day? Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when the first plane hit the tower?

I do. If I close my eyes, it feels as if I could relive that instant easily. Even though it’s been so many years ago, I still find myself being moved with compassion for those families who lost loved ones during that tragic event. Some situations and moments will never be forgotten. We just happen to be remembering the occurrence which happened long ago on this particular day.

There have been twenty four September 11th’s since then.

There are other events in time we remember as well. Pearl Harbor Day, maybe the date of an assassinated President, the beginning or ending of a war. The date we graduated, got engaged or were married. We even remember spiritual events which happened two thousand years ago when Christ died and rose again and maybe when we gave our lives to the Lord and started walking with Him.

There are a lot of anniversaries for us to hold space for.

God gave us the ability to remember. Like I said, some events and moments we never want to forget and them there are those we wish we didn’t remember quite so well. It is a gift however.

It’s been eight years for us — since we personally had a tragic event happen in our world. Yes, I can close my eyes and remember right where I was. I remember details others might have forgotten. I know, and my body knows, the anniversary date is nearing.

If I didn’t step out and mention it, many others would probably never remember. Sure, there would be a select few, but for the most part, others just consider it another “normal” day. Understandably so too! The day my son gained his wings is indelibly inscribed on every part of my life though. Just as his birth day is. Moms never forget bringing their child into the world, and the child’s first steps! Angel moms also never forget the moment they took their first step into that foreign world either.

As we near the anniversary of my son’s death, I experienced a new “first”. I ask a friend of mine who lives in Louisiana to go take a picture of his resting place last week and my eyes leaked sad, salty tears when I received the pictures via text and saw it. I was saddened that his headstone is bare. It used to be so decorated with different trinkets and has always displayed multiple flower arrangements. “Has he been forgotten?” was the first thought that went through my mind.

I think that’s a mother’s worst nightmare; well, next to experiencing the loss in the first place. Thinking about the possibility of her child being forgotten is scary.

That child mattered!

Still matters!

Will always matter!

Some people don’t want to mention a name in hopes of not bringing up certain feelings of longing and sadness; but when we do hear his or her name, it touches our hearts because we know they are remembered. That doesn’t bring sadness, and if there’s a tear which surfaces, well, it’s proof that we’ve loved. It’s okay!

There isn’t a “Remember ________” (insert your angel’s name) Day set aside for everyone to recall.

That’s okay, I guess. I think I can safely speak for all of us though: It was just as tragic, probably more so, than 9/11! That’s just our perspective.

Today, It’s still just as fresh as the day it happened, regardless of how many years it’s been. Maybe it wasn’t a loss of many people at once or capture the focus of the world like 9/11, but it was a loss of our whole world in a way. Fact: It doesn’t hurt any less today than it originally did, we have just learned to “live around it” with a little more grace and a lot of help from the Lord.

So, when an anniversary comes around, and we observe a personal day of loss, when we’re a little more scattered than usual because our mind is muddled, in those moments we’re a little angry, when the tears fall and we become a bit more sensitive, please understand and be patient. Love has no expiration date! And the hurt never fades away.

Yes, God carries us until we regain some strength to walk in our own, but even then, He knows there will still be sad days — and more tears to come. He is close to the brokenhearted, He bandages our hearts, and He counts our tears. His presence is the essence of our existence; it’s how we make it from day to day. It’s how we are able to continue breathing. He brings peace and hope to our chaotic, shattered hearts. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t carry on without Him.

So, as we remember 9/11, know that it’s okay to remember, to share, to set aside a moment, to not be okay with our loss. There is a new normal now, we are different people today, and we have times when grief waves knock us off our feet for a minute. Yes, next year will bring yet another anniversary and we’ll feel it and start talking about it before the day arrives again. We’ll remember. We’ll realize we’ve grown a bit more. We’ll reflect again. We’ll feel all the feels again. We’ll know with certainty that we will make it through this one too - because God brought us through the last.

Here’s some hope to hold on too: God remembers!

He remembered Noah, Abraham, Rachel…and He remembers you and I - and our angel child too.

Remember…because, deep down, we really don’t want to forget. Hold that space! Hold that space for your child. And, yes, hold that space for 9/11 mothers today…there are moms feeling the same pain we do today. One of the greatest gifts I’ve received since the death of my son, is learning how to hold space for others dealing with the same sort of thing. It’s a priceless gift of love to give — our child to be known and remembered.

Just a few thoughts I wanted to share today. May God comfort you.

Hold that space, remember them…God does.

In Loving Memory of

Steffan R. Hardesty (Runkle)

Nov. 20, 1992 - Sept. 27, 2017

Gone, but never forgotten.