Chillin' With Lemonade

Brittany’s calendar says she will be off of work at 6:00.

6:30 she’s not here.

7:00 She’s not here and not answering my text.

7:30 Chad says “she probably picked up a few extra hours”.

8:00 The dogs start barking at the window.

I think the troopers are at the door. They are here to tell me she was in an accident and is dead. I try to take deep breaths and tell myself to calm down and stop panicking. Traumatic experiences can mess a person up. Geez. I quietly walk to the window just to make sure the troopers aren’t sitting outside. They sat outside for a while before they came in to tell me about HeeJun. What if they are out there making sure they have the right address? Deep breath. No one is out there. Then I start thinking, what if because I thought this I put that thought out there. What if it happens because I thought it? ERICA, calm down. That’s nuts. On the outside, I look calm, maybe a little nervous. Inside, I’m freaking out. I start rehearsing how I will react in my mind when they tell me. Will I scream? Will I believe it? Freaking out.

8:05 Brittany comes home. She picked up a few extra hours.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. (Isaiah 41:13)

For God gave us not a spirit of fearfulness; but of power and love and discipline. (2 Timothy 1:7)

Sometimes I can still taste the grief. That’s how strong it is. I can taste it and feel it tightening every muscle in my body. It’s amazing how physical grief is.

Sometimes I’m driving to work alone and I’ll remember that dreaded feeling I had every morning. I’ll remember how hard it was to breathe. Sometimes when I’m at the grocery store, I can remember what it felt like to be a zombie walking the aisles. Sitting on the couch watching television, I can remember the days where all I could do was watch tv.

I have to take deep breath when that happens. Sometimes it’s good and okay to let those emotions in. Most of the time it’s a blessing that I can still remember. It is a reminder of how far I have come, how far God has brought me, how faithful and comforting God has been. Then I stand in amazement.

So you don’t leave this post all glum and sad, here are some cute pictures of Juneau and Moorea.

PTSD, much?

I can still taste it