Till We Are Home

Four years ago today, my darling youngest daughter went home to be with the Lord. 

As this anniversary approached over the last few weeks, I’ve reflected on memories of her and the time that passed. Four years without one of my children feels unthinkable. Yet, here I am. 

Looking back over these years, the memory of those early days just after we lost her brings deep sorrow. Those were especially painful and sharp days of loss. I don’t much like remembering them because of the incredibly strong memories and emotions that can still feel weighty. 

But, even in those early days and over the years since, I see God’s help along the way. We felt especially carried by Him as we mourned deeply those early days. They were full of exhausting moments of great sorrow, and He sustained us through them all. As time passed, He continued to help us each step along the way while we grieved and simultaneously experienced new days without Izzy. 

God’s goodness even in the midst of pain is unquestionable. He is near to the brokenhearted (Ps 34:18), and His very presence is my only good (Ps 73:28).

As I walk these more recent days and think through this experience of grief, I find a uniqueness to these days compared to the earlier ones. In those days nearer to her actual death, we still felt “close” to her, so to speak. She was alive and experienced life with us not too far from the days we were walking…we weren’t altogether too different than what she knew of us, albeit with the exclusion of the mountain of sorrow we bore. 

But, today, we’ve now lived 4 additional years on this earth since she went home. Things that we’ve done, she didn’t do with us. Vacations we’ve taken, she wasn’t there. Family pictures do not have her alongside with us. Even new things we enjoy today, she wasn’t aware of.

For instance, I’ve come to enjoy fountain pens. It’s weird to hone in on a simple experience that means zero in the grand scheme of things as it relates to who I am, but Isabel didn’t know that I would enjoy fountain pens. Simple things like that, she did not experience. 

We also laugh these days about the fact that I hated onions since I was a kid. It was somewhat “famous” in our home that I hated onions. But, for whatever reason, since Izzy died, I’ve come to enjoy onions. So, we laugh about the thought of one day explaining to her that I was so broken about losing her that I started to like onions. (I think she’d get a kick out of hearing that).

When you lose someone you love so dearly, someone who knew you quite well to the point that they knew many of your likes and dislikes, it can feel like new experiences of loss when you realize that over the passing of time, the new likes and dislikes, the interests, the joys, the memories you experience won’t be known by that loved one. Even an interest in fountain pens can break your heart one day and bring a flood of tears.

Four years of days without Isabel has felt enormous. Silly little interests like fountain pens and onions, let alone all the major highs and lows since, can be one of those experiences of loss that may not make a whole lot of sense to most but to those of us who have lost a dearly loved one…they hurt. 

It should be obvious…but, I sure do miss my daughter.

I miss her laughter. I miss her spunk. I miss her dimple. I just miss her so much.

We’ll have a lot to catch up on when I see her next…and, I will see her again. By that point, will I tell her about the fountain pens? Who knows. The onions, probably. 

But, I can’t wait to see her again, that’s for sure. Until then, and for as long as the Lord would have me walk this earth, there will be more of these kinds of experiences. The highs and lows, the monumental and the mundane. Days will pass without her alongside us, and we will continue to experience the sorrow that comes along with them.

But, as the last four years have taught me, we don’t experience them alone. Someone walks alongside with us through it all who has experienced all of it, too. In fact, “He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows,” (Isa 53:4). God has not left us alone for even one of these many, many days. He’s been good to us and will continue to be good to us for however many more. And, we are grateful to Him for His continued nearness, knowing and looking forward to one day experiencing it face-to-face. 

It’s been a hard four years, yet God is good. I love my daughter so much and miss her a ton. Still, God is good, even in the sorrow. And, though that sorrow will be with me throughout my days, He’s good and will continue to carry us through however many days He has for us…

Till we are home…