After listening to me tell her the entire week of Aaron in the hospital six years ago, God prompting me to baptize him, being asked to sit with him by his mom until it was time for him to die, announcing to Aaron's mom and dad that it was time, sitting in the room with his parents, brother and other aunts and uncles when he passed away, the details of the funeral and the days that followed, I shared that I've never cried.
Not when placed my hands on his forehead and heart the first night.
Not when I found out his death was eminent.
Not when I baptized him.
Not when I sat in his room and people asked how he was.
Not when we surrounded him and he died.
Not at the funeral.
Not when I was alone at home.
Not on any of the anniversaries.
I haven't cried.
It was a long story. Instead of saying something quickly and rushing off, she took my hands in hers and we were eyeball to eyeball. She said, "Maybe you don't need to grieve so much because you brought him into restoration with God. God gave you that assignment and the one to sit in his room, watching over him, then getting everyone when his heartbeat started going down. You were able to hear the Holy Spirit and do what was being asked of you."
I never think of obedience as a reason for God removing pain.
I still might be blocking some grief because I sink into a deep depression a few days before that week begins and days after. Truth be told, I'm still in it. Sleeping a lot. Saw my psych and he made an adjustment. He was trying to get me to laugh but I wasn't finding anything funny. I wasn't angry - just not in a funny mood.
This is the t-shirt I made while the Alateens were at the hospital. Like I said before, I needed to be with my own people.
Thanks for listening.
