It’s been 14 days since we first had to say, “Mommy’s gone.”

So much of that still doesn’t make sense even though I understand it logically. I have this counseling degree under which I’m supposed to know and understand that, “everyone grieves differently.”  It’s one of those things you say until you face something that really makes you believe it. I don’t know what my grieving process will be…but the journey has begun, because Mommy’s gone.

I have to say, I’m so thankful for my faith…something my parents made a point to instill in all of us kids.  When scripture says there’s a peace that passes all understanding, I know that to be true now.  I believe that God gave me that peace while squatting on a hospital floor leaning up against a wall, holding my best friend’s left hand and someone else’s in my right.

I got that peace between when the doctor came in to say, “She’s arrested again, it doesn’t look good,” and when he came back in and my dad looked up through tears,  and said, “She’s gone, isn’t she? She’s gone?”

I don’t know how much time there was between that exchange…I just remember trying to take deep breaths and prepare myself.  But the only way I knew how to prepare, was to talk to God. Nothing made sense. The fabric of our family was being ripped in two.

“Okay, Jesus.  Okay, Jesus.  Okay, Jesus.”

I don’t know how many times I said it, it was the only prayer I could pray. I had been praying all day.  I had been praying for God to comfort my family, to protect the hearts of my dad and brothers, praying for mommy to be okay.

But that prayer, that was the most basic prayer all day.  In it, He brought me peace that I still don’t understand. Mommy’s gone.   She’s gone from us, but she is present with her Lord, Jesus.  In that prayer I stopped holding on to my mommy here on earth, because only Jesus could take care of her better than we ever could. Only Jesus could comfort us more than mommy ever could.

“Okay, Jesus,” meant that the years of mommy telling me about God’s promise of her one day having a new body-with no more pain, were over because that day had come.  No more pain.

I didn’t realize it at first, but over the years, instead of mom repeating that God promises us new bodies, it was me that had to remind her…the pain was wearing her out.  No one knows a mother like her daughter.

So, although everyone grieves in different ways, in the midst of my grief and disbelief, I have peace.  Mommy’s gone, she’s in no more pain and I am so relieved. It was the one thing I could never fix for her. Thankfully, for 14 days, she’s been well taken care of.