It Dawned on Me

It dawned on me tonight that there are five months worth of pictures without Trent in them. I realized that a lot of my pictures have stayed hidden in the computer since Trent died. It hasn't been top priority to record details and enjoy photographs this summer. All those vacations and special times have a hidden pain to them now. They are all records of firsts. Firsts that are hard to do and I am not so sure just how to process them some days.


We received an invitation in the mail the other day for a picnic for survivors of loved ones who have made organ donations. I almost laughed. Then I almost cried. I remembered again how we got on their list... how is this real? What would you talk about at a picnic like that? I know the intentions are good, but maybe I should suggest that they wait a bit longer before mailing out invitations to families who have just lost children. There is still too much pain at this time to remember the precious gifts that were given.

Then I had to call the bank to make a simple transfer of funds. And it almost ended up with both myself and the poor clerk crying before we were done. Did you know that a deceased person couldn't earn dividends on their savings account? I didn't, either. And why did nobody call to let us know that little detail before now? All these little details are still so consuming.

I found myself praising God after the Duluth hospital called this morning. Actually, it was hours after I heard their message that I praised God. I saw the name on the caller ID and let the phone keep on ringing. I remember the last call we got from there. The nice lady told us that they had made plaster hand prints of Trent's hands and wanted to know our zip-code so they could send them to us. I felt the wind knocked right out of me. It was worse than hearing the news of Trent's death for the first time. In my own little world I am dealing with this. With God I am dealing with this. With the public, or with people who love me too much, or with fresh reminders in so many odd ways, I go down.

I thought about the person's job it is to make plaster casts of the hand's of children who die. I thought about the hands that have handled all these details without us even knowing about it. I wondered if they had children. I wondered if they think about eternity. I wondered how I am going to open that box next week. I wondered why she didn't have our zip-code. I wondered about God's promises and what Trent is doing in heaven today. I wondered how it will be when I have been there for five months.


Today, God has me here. I trust Him for that. Today was even a good day... all things considered. I worked, I ate, I dared to dream a bit, I loved deeply even though it scares me, I felt emotions through the numbness, I longed for things unseen, I cherished conversations with my daughter about God, I wrote, I took pictures, I cared. Then I crawled into bed and watched a movie with Rob and ate half a bag of Cheese-puffs.