1. Your love of planners brought your blog to my notice. But your post about our common loss was what got my attention. You are so right: the ordinary days are often the toughest and only Jesus can help us make sense of the loss. Today marks 365 days since my mom last sat in her home, in her own little spot which she had occupied since before my memories began. 365 days ago she waved goodbye to Dad, reassuring him she’d be back soon, that the ambulance was only there because we girls were such worry-ers. Little did we know she had begun the last leg of her journey Home. Three weeks later, three horrible weeks later, Jesus invited her to Heaven and our 84-year old mom traded her hospital gown for heavenly clothes. I miss her so.

    1. I’m so very sorry. That first year is absolutely the hardest. I’m praying for you right now!

  2. I lost my Dad almost 3 Month ago. Eight Days before my little Daughter was born….This is so true.

  3. Kayse, this is such a perfect description of grief. My little brother has been gone for 25 years and my mom almost 3 years ago and some days are fine and other days all I have to do is say their names or think of them and I am a total mess. Yes it is in the ordinary but I find my heart breaks all over again when someone else has to go through this heartbreak. Thank goodness for my accountability partner who helps keep me grounded and always points me back to Him.

  4. So true. Thank you so much for your heart poured into these words. I lost my dad 13 years ago and just this month my mom entered into hospice for her brain cancer. Thank you for your reminder that Jesus wants to be with us in our ache. He’s not necessarily going to keep loss from happening or take our pain away but He is with us like no one else can be, maybe because He’s also with those we have lost when we can’t be. Somehow that makes me feel a bit closer to my dad.

  5. I don’t know how i missed this, when you first wrote it, but dear friend i just wanted to tell you how beautiful and true and healing this is. Yes, sometimes grief just completely catches you off guard…like when you start leaking tears in the check out line and then recognize that familiar perfume was your dear granny’s (side note: I don’t think people like knowing when their perfume reminds you of your passed granny) and let’s not talk about how many times I cried at the sight of pregnant tummies. There are times when sitting with Jesus was hard because I was so angry with Him, but I’ve learned His grace is big enough for even those moments and He is the only one who can heal our hearts.

  6. Denise Reed-Greiner says:

    Kayse, beautifully written and thoughtfully conveyed. You are so right. . . . it doesn’t actually get better, it just gets different. Life will always be different and yes, it does pop up in ordinary situations and just grabs you. The other day, I was in the grocery store and I smelled my mama’s perfume. Instinctively, I began to look for her, coming upon a sweet little lady who, by all outward appearances, looked an awful lot just like my mama. Right there in the middle of the grocery store, the tears began and I had to fight hard to get out of there before I just was out of control. It has been 7 years since my mama went to her heavenly home and still it grabs me when I least expect it. Love you Kayse. You are amazing and I deeply appreciate your gift of writing!

  7. Jill Whelan says:

    Kayse, your mom was a gracious, lovely woman. I remember her light way and quick giggle and bright smile. She loved you and Seth so much. She invested tremendously into her family. She loved you more than anything, well except Jesus. I ache for you. No young woman should have to navigate through motherhood and marriage without their sweet Mom. Yet God called her home. As I follow your posts, I feel her presence through your words. I cannot read a single sentence without feeling her. You my dear, are a constant reminder of a very lovely lady who is genuinely missed. I will pray for you as often as I think of you as you continue this journey of “different”. And yes, she would not have missed a thing in the lives of your children. I pray God will continue to be your comfort and as you continue life without her you would be quick to live out the legacy she left behind.

    1. Thank you so much. Honestly, your words are so kind. I couldn’t appreciate you more!

  8. Oh, tears. This is so beautiful and I needed it today. I feel like I’ve been, so many days, in the place you described. Unable to sit with Him, not knowing how to even trust the One Who took our little baby to heaven. Gonna take some time to spend with Him today. Sending you a hug…I wish it could be in person. Thank you for this.

    1. Oh friend, I wish I could hug you too!!! Praying for you right this second.

  9. Yes, I totally identify with this, Kayse… We’ve lost two babies during pregnancy, and you are right – the pain doesn’t get better, it gets different. One of my favorite books is Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, and I think it contains one of the best descriptions of grief:

    “It surprised him that his grief was sharper than in the past few days. He had forgotten that grief does not decline in a straight line or along a slow curve like a graph in a child’s math book. Instead it was almost as if his body contained a big pile of garden rubbish full both of heavy lumps of dirt and of sharp thorny brush that would stab him when he least expected it.”

    Thanks for the reminder to sit with the Lord and let him bind me up…

    1. Wow, that is an incredible quote. Thanks for sharing, and I’m so sorry for your losses! Praying comfort for you tonight.

  10. I love you and the way you craft your thoughts, hurt, and feelings into beautiful words. I agree, just because we know the truth and we know who is Truth, doesn’t mean our pain is denied. Finding peace in the beauty AND the ashes, my friend. I love you, Kayse!

  11. Thank you SO much for posting this, and for being honest about a painful subject. I lost my mom to cancer only four years ago this April and it is like you have looked in and read my heart. God sent your post to me today, and I will be more quick to bring my ashes of sadness to Him and trade them for Christ’s beauty. Thank you! I am going to share your post with my sisters. 🙂

    1. Sigh, I’m so sorry. Cancer is the one thing that makes me want to swear on a regular basis. I’m glad you were encouraged, but I’m so very sorry for your loss.

  12. I love you. And loss is tough. I think part of it is that it does keep popping up when you least expect it.

  13. Thank you for these words Kayse. You are right, Mom would have been there to see your kids often.
    This month and other reminders as you pointed out, brings the loss up close again and the hurt comes back.
    Your also right about spending time with God is the only thing that helps give me peace, well there is the happiness that comes when you guys visit also, and I get to spend time with your kids.
    I love you, Dad

    1. You could always move up here… 😉 Love you, Dad.

  14. Rebecca Digrugilliers says:

    Oh, sweet friend, this was beautiful. And so timely. My baby, Jane, and my best friend’s mama both left us this week last year. I’ve shared your post with her too.

    1. Ah, I’ve been thinking about you and Jane this week. Praying for you, friend.

  15. Kayse, this is SO beautiful. I haven’t experienced loss in this way– not yet– but chances are I will at some point in my life. And I’ll have to remember this: that only Jesus can fill those holes that loss leaves.

    Thank you for sharing your beautiful heart!!

  16. Thank you for this, aabsolutely beautiful. 2 months ago today I said goodbye to my mom, 20 1/2 years ago I said goodbye to my dad. It never gets easier but I seek comfort in Him, especially on the days when anger and grief compete for my attention.

    1. Anger and grief are intertwined for me too. Praying for you always, friend.

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