Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long

John died seven weeks ago today.

One week after the funeral we went to the cemetery. We brought a few loose flowers to place on the grave. Charlotte tossed her handful of flowers.

Josiah is thinking about throwing the flowers. Since John died he has had a fear of things blowing away. He is anxious about kites, umbrellas, even his trucks blowing away.

Charlotte and Josiah decide to put the flowers on John's grave and secure them with rocks.

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We are fighting illness of late. We have been coughing and carrying on for weeks. The kids can't run through the yard without gagging. I took them to the doctor today. Our doctor and several other people from her office go to our church. While we were in the waiting room Charlotte told the other patients, "I went to my Dad's funeral." Another patient was a friend from church who played the harp for the Wake. When she saw us she couldn't stop the tears. This prompted Charlotte to say, "Practically everyone in this whole doctor's office knows that my Dad died."

On the car ride home I asked Charlotte, "In the office you said that everyone knows your Dad died. Do you like to go into a place where everyone knows that your Daddy died or do you like to go to places where no one knows?" She said, "I like to go where no one knows, then I get to tell them."

After my previous post, I got an email from a friend that said something like, "In generations back, everyone would know you were grieving by your clothes. You could carry on your normal life, but the black dress told everyone you were mourning." I have thought a lot about this. I feel like I am wearing a shawl of mourning. I go about my life, but there is a constant heaviness. Its not always in my conscious mind, it just IS.

Sometimes I get distracted by the day's events. In moments like these I am taken off guard by tears coming "from nowhere." I will get breakfast, get the kids dressed, read a morning book, sing a morning song and then someone will come to pick up the children. The moment they walk out the door tears begin to pour down my cheeks. My mind had forgotten, but my heart had not. My heart is very efficient at grieving. It takes advantage of every opportunity whether I like it or not.

I have had many conversations with the children about crying. We talked about it before John died. We talk about it now. The gist of these conversations is something like this, "Mommy's heart is broken because Daddy died. My heart is full of tears. Every day I will pour out some of the tears from my heart. I will not cry all the time. I will laugh with you. I will go to the park. I will make breakfast and read books. And sometimes I will cry. I will pour out lots of tears with Jesus and with my friends. I will not cry out all of my tears with you. But sometimes I will cry." Even with these assurances, both kids are afraid of my tears. If Josiah notices a catch in my voice or see my eyes fill with tears he immediately starts shouting, "Don't cry! Why are you crying? Don't cry!"

Hear, O LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.

Guard my life, for I am devoted to you.

You are my God; save your servant who trusts in you.

Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.

Bring joy to your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you.

Hear my prayer, O LORD; listen to my cry for mercy.

In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.

Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord; no deeds can compare with yours.

All the nations you have made will come and worship before you,

O Lord; they will bring glory to your name.

For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in your truth;

give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.

I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart;

I will glorify your name forever.

For great is your love toward me;

you have delivered me from the depths of the grave.

Psalm 86: 1-13