I’m reading Jane Eyre and that is the enscription on Helen’s headstone.
it means “I shall rise again” in Latin.
My cousins’ mom died on the 7th. it was the night before mother’s day.
today was the funeral. on saturday, when her youngest son should have graduated from college he was picking out his mother’s headstone.
her baby girl is a college freshman. in her two minutes to speak she said that it still hasn’t hit her yet. “other girls lose their mothers…” she cried.
“we’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” another cousin said. And everyone agreed. This part of our family gets together mostly for funerals/memorial services. He said that we need to adress our similarities and not focus so much on differences.
and there i times like this one.
where i find myself trapped in the shock and wonder at what just happened.
but part of me is happy for him.
thank you God for freeing little Jacob from the pain and problems of his heart and God please help us to be okay. Heal and help his parents, his teachers, his friends and his family.
though i didn’t know him. i know it must have hurt to have lost a baby like that.
It must be because i thought about it.
That’s gotta be the reason i’m looking so desperately trying to save someone.
Suicide is the one sin you can’t repent after if done quickly, so for me the torment of wondering how God would feel about me
along with the knowledge of my inability to handle it if someone i care about were to leave me by that method
and my personal fear of blood kept me from it.
Having thought about it made my fear of blood worse.
I don’t think anyone who cares really knows that i thought about it. i came up with all kinds of methods and it was awful.
When the word comes across my lips it’s packed with hate.
It’s an action that deserves to be despised.
But the people who consider it, the ones who attempt it are people who deserve and need to be helped. not hated. not mocked. paid attention to and helped.
my depression comes often in the heat of summer. when i have to take my asthma and allergy medications regularly. i am confinied by my will to my room. but i can’t escape my father’s fury at his lack of control, my mother’s regret at the choices she’s made or let be made for her with her loud voice un-yeilding and not trying to protect what remains of her will, my sisters rebelling against me and using me. but i am stronger than i used to be. i refuse to let my feelings in a moment bully me and decide for me that i am un-necessary.
every individual person is important. you have thoughts no one else has. yours is a tale no one else can tell quite as well. you are someone who is loved. if for you, there is no one to remind tell you, if no one else: there’s always God and for many years more there will be me.
this is a picture i took from the freeway of the moon over my city on january 21, 2011.
i’m uploading something to my youtube page.
…a page which i wonder if you’ll ever find without hints/help…
it’s a video i made on a ride last night. i’ve been kind of down since the 21st.
as this january 21st marked the 5th anniversary of my maternal grandfather’s death
(rip Granddaddy 5 may 1930- 21 january 2006 we love you)
and it was the day of my mother’s surgery.
my sister and i noticed it and she was going to tell my mom so she’d re-schedule the surgery, but i’d told her not to. “she knows,” i’d said. my mom is still in the hospital, and though she’s not as well tonight as she was last night, i’m having faith she’ll be out soon.
last night was difficult for me though, as is everyday she’s there because for me it’s a reminder of my place. of my powerlessness. though i am powerful because i have a connection to the one who holds her life, i am reminded that He has the final say. && that it just might be His will to take her home tonight, as opposed to a distant “someday.”
And though, this feeling is big and suffocating, there’s a peace from God’s Holy Ghost that’s surpassing my understanding. It’s comforting, but at the same time i am terrified by it. I have faith in this.
It seems i am seeing the problem with growing up. I have become afraid of trusting what I can’t see. I’m just glad that my fear doesn’t make me believe any less.
