Confession #9: The Elephant in the Room

We are traveling back home for our Christmas Eve service at Harmony, as we speak. Although brief, our time with the Wagenschutz crew was crazy and fun, as always. It's always special to be with extended family, especially at Christmas time. Distractions of chaos have been helpful as we approach this holiday without Zoe, but that's for another blog post, so I'll move on for now. 

We are leading up to the doozie of all confessions, in my opinion…#10…at least it has been in my book. Maybe I've already hit on one that rang your bell, but #10 sticks to your ribs…and hips…and thighs, if you know what I mean. ACK!

Anyway, I wanted to share confession #9 with you while I have the opportunity. We are leaving tomorrow afternoon to travel over to Indiana to celebrate Christmas with the Carr side! More chaotic distractions…just what the doctor ordered! :)

SO…here we go…confession #9 is very simple. It may be so simple that it's difficult to explain, but I'll do my best.

Trying to avoid talking about Zoe is more painful than talking about her. I'm already confused. This isn't going well.

Let me put it this way…I may (and probably will) tear up when anyone (including me) talks about our precious girl. But those are tears of sweet remembrance and disappointed dreams. Good tears. This needs to be ok. I've become very aware that this makes people feel bad…like they've done something wrong by bringing up Zoe to her family. This couldn't be further from the truth. We are sad she's not with us any more. That's how it will always be. Humanly speaking, we will never say from our standpoint, "We don't miss her anymore." Never. Please don't try to keep us from remembering that.

The FAR more painful tears come when it's obvious that you're avoiding bringing her up to us. That cuts much deeper. I'm confident this isn't done with any malice whatsoever, but primarily out of discomfort of not knowing what to say…not wanting to hurt us any more than we're already hurting…not wanting to bring up old wounds that cause fresh tears. I get that. I really do.

But can I just say…she's always on my mind. When I think and talk about our family, I think and talk about Zoe as well. To not do so feels like another sort of abandonment to me. 
She's part of our family now…even in her absence. Imagine our joy when you remember that with us. 

I don't want to pretend that we only have 5 kids, but I know it's makes some people uncomfortable when I accidentally say 6. This "elephant in the room" travels into many facets of our lives. I totally understand now why it's so difficult for families to put away the things of the child they lost…why some parents struggle with changing anything in the child's bedroom…why any "new" experience is just as painful as the old memories.

Let me give you a couple examples in our family.

Although we took Zoe’s clothes out of the room she shared with Zane, I haven’t been able to bring myself to take her name down from the bedroom wall…or to take her bed and pink quilt out of the room.

We also didn’t take a family Christmas picture this year. Could. Not. Do. It. Not without her.

We also have framed pictures of Zoe sitting around our house.  I can’t ever think we’d remove them.

Before you think it’s creepy when you go to someone’s house that has lost a loved one, and you’re reminded of that loss as you look around,  please understand that to remove all evidence that this person existed feels like a betrayal of epic proportions.

Also understand that we are thinking of our sweet angel even when the world keeps spinning and time keeps marching on without her.

Maybe then you can appreciate the sweetness of a memory instead of the sadness of a death.

We WANT to remember. Please don’t want us to forget.