Be Still and Listen

Ram Dass once said "The quieter you become, the more you can hear." Be still and listen. It is something that I took to heart and started doing after Charlie was born. Any decision or stressful thing in my life, I would just be still and listen. I've always come up with the answer. Sometimes my own will overpowers my mantra and I struggle and stress about the answer. Once I let it go, the answer always comes. 

I've done it a lot since Catherine died. In the beginning, the idea of cleaning out her room seemed unbearable. People suggested I turn her room into my own craft room. I was opposed to both ideas. As far as I was concerned, I was never cleaning out her room and I wasn't ever going to craft again. 

Over time, I did start to craft again. But I was still opposed to touching her room or even moving in there. It seemed like the worst idea and that I was a traitor of some sort. I didn't want to benefit in any way from her death. Until one day I just decided to stop worrying about it. I decided to be still and listen. 

In May, I suddenly had peace about cleaning her room and decided to do it Labor Day weekend. The one year mark. And that was that. My decision was made. But I still wasn't moving into her room. Josh and I went and looked at lots of buildings to put out back for me to work in but none of them seemed right. Josh always says that it may take me a while to make up my mind but once I do, there is no changing it. I told him I wanted to be still and listen and not make any decisions about buying a building to put out back. And one day, I was suddenly calm and I entertained the idea of at least using Catherine's room for my fabric. Anyone that has been to my house knows that the dining room was overrun with massive amounts of fabric and other craft stuff. Soon after that, the idea of moving into her room seemed like a good idea. 

I was right. An idea that once tortured me, suddenly seemed like the best idea. Since moving up here, I find so much peace. I feel like Catherine and I are sharing her room. Her furniture is still in here and I didn't remove much from the walls. I rehung her twinkle lights and I find great comfort sitting here in the evening, surrounded by her stuff while the glow of the twinkle lights keeps me company. 

Before Catherine died, Josh and I decided to try to have another baby. Not a lot of people know that when Henry was 6 months old, I had an ectopic pregnancy that went terribly wrong. I had an emergency c-section to remove the baby and my right tube. We were told to wait an entire year before we tried again. And we did, while not knowing whether or not we would be able to get pregnant again. My reasoning for having another baby was that Catherine was going to be headed off to college soon and the idea of being left behind with all these boys made me nervous. So we were going to try for a girl. But no pregnancy. And then Catherine died and we took the idea off the table...for about a month. And we tried again. Each month, finding ourselves surprised that I wasn't pregnant yet. I wasn't stressing about it. I even went to the doctor to see if my other tube was blocked. It wasn't. Despite medications and minor interventions, we still couldn't get pregnant. And while I was sad, I wasn't stressed or angry about it. I certainly didn't take it out on anyone. We stayed positive and hoped for the best.

Before we left for the beach in October, I prayed that I have an answer one way or the other.  Living in a state of flux is hard. Do i get rid of the baby clothes or the car seat? While I wanted the decision to be pregnancy, I knew it was time to be still and listen. The day we arrived at the beach, we took Henry out to play. I was watching Josh play with Henry and I was so lonely. I missed Catherine. And then suddenly, as if someone were sitting next to me, I heard "It won't be the same." And suddenly it all made sense. 

When I had Catherine, I had just turned 20 years old. Catherine and I grew up together. It was why our relationship was so special. She was there in the lean years and then the prosperous years. She was a grownup stuck in a kid's body. We went through it all together. She was my guiding light through many decisions. As she got older, our relationship got even closer. By wanting another baby, I was thinking that I would get the same experience with another daughter. It would be great while Catherine was off to college. Except it wouldn't be the same. There is no way that the relationship I had with her could ever be duplicated. 

And in that moment of being still and listening, I heard the answer I had been praying for the last 2 years. I told my husband that I thought we are done having kids. When Henry is 11, the older boys will be graduated from high school and (hopefully) on their own. We could take trips with Henry to another country. Or a cruise. Having another child would take that away from him. So the decision was made and for the first time in 2 years, I felt peace.

To be still and listen also works with forgiveness. I've been so mad and resentful towards someone for the last 16 years. I hated them. I held their sins over the head of my husband and other relationships. Last year this person asked for forgiveness. I was furious. How dare they?! Not after what they put me and Catherine through all these years. And I realized I was mad at someone that didn't care. To hate someone is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. I had been drinking that poison for 16 long years. It was eating away at me. I didn't want to allow this person anymore rental space in my head and heart. And so yesterday while I was getting ready to leave the house, I heard "forgive him and let it go." Wasn't expecting that one. But then I realized that it was time. I headed out the door to leave and sat in the car and sent a text to this person, forgiving them. I stopped drinking the poison. I released them from the power they had over me. It was suddenly easy. I'm free from the anger and resentment. 

In the days after Catherine died, I was so furious at God. Losing my precious child wasn't fair and I was angry. It took a few months but the anger subsided and while we weren't on speaking terms, I knew he was still there. As I've gravitated back to my faith and decided to be still and listen, I find myself more at peace. I miss my daughter terribly and I can't wait until the day that we are reunited. I like to think that she spent the exact years, months, days, minutes, and seconds on this earth that God intended her to spend. It wasn't what I wanted but I have to find acceptance. So for now, I'm going to be still and listen and see what God has planned for me.