December has been an impossible month to get through since mom passed away early Christmas morning 2016.
EVERY second of EVERY moment of EVERY day hurts. EVERY one. Every morning, I fight the dawn. I’m too tired to deal with you, I say. You see, dawn knows, full well that I fought a raging battle to endure, yet one more night.
The nights are soooooooooo long. They are unending. The moon laughs at me, taunting me, teasing me that dawn would be on its way soon.
It’s morning, again. Another December day to have to get through. There are 25. Fighting to get past NEVER. Fighting with myself to don my aqua ish shirt, just one more time. One more time, Cassandra. If you can conquer dawn perhaps you may defeat the morning.
And, if the morning gets beaten back, you may make it til noon. No idea how we shall make it past noon. Just get to noon.
Who is ‘we’ you ask? It is she, my secret tears, that I carry with me, stealthily through these December days. I con the light into thinking all is alright, knowing, full well, these secret tears haunts my every waking step. Anxious to shed their load, alone, during the stillness of the night.
I made my peace, years ago, that I would bear these secret tears alone. I tell myself progress has been made. For two years, I struggled EVERY day. At least, now, the agonizing days are down to but 25.
On December 26th, I am set free from the awful words ‘Ttnette, they said there is nothing else they can do’. On December 26th, I can breathe again. I can put away, these secret tears, until they return for me next year…*sigh*
This year, though, God refused to let me cry my secret tears alone. They had gotten too heavy for me. I didn’t tell Him that. I told Him I would be okay this year. For Him. For mom.
I didn’t want to let Him down. Didn’t want to let mom down. I just had to say ‘see, mom, Christmas doesn’t hurt anymore’. It still did. Still does.
So, I race the afternoon’s light. I secretly stash my tissues and make my rounds, making sure other folk are okay. All while dreading night 3 of 25 knowing 22 wait patiently for me.
A funny thing happened on my way to another endless night. God sat with me. He asked me to let Him hold my tears for me. The secret tears that I have kept away. Even from Him. Yea, I especially hid them from Him. I had been trying to be a big girl. I was trying my best to conquer these December days. In order to get to the other side of NEVER. Told God I was trying, desperately, to go first. So others might find the courage to go next.
Hearing my silent screams, He asked if He could bear my burden for me. Guiltily, I gave. Tenderly, He bore. Gently, He pried every secret tear from within my tight grasp. Softly, He took my clenched fists, placed a kiss upon each one and carried those secret tears next to His heart. He cried every one with me. FOR me. Said they were precious. Cried that I might know that I was precious. To Him. He was My Dad. He loved me.
To my surprise, morning came quickly. Solemnly, God arose. Said He had to get on with His day. Said He just had to put down everything to come and help me beat back the darkness. To arise with me, come morn. He asked if He could return. Said we had 22 more days to get through. Together.
As He exits, He reminds me to be sure to don my aqua ish shirt. He asked me to keep my December secret, no longer. Said to tell folks He was ready to carry their secret tears, as well. Said to tell yall He sees. Sees your secret tears. Sees your secret struggles.
Your hard days may not be December. May not be the loss of a parent. No matter. He sees. And, He longs to sit with you. Longs to comfort you. Longs to be Your Dad.
The bible says that God stands at the door and knocks. He waits. Will you let Him share your secret tears?
Yes, December may always hurt. But, you don’t have to hurt alone. I shall sit with you through your dark night, of the soul. You WILL make it. As will I. Keep going…
praying for you,