The Dark Easter of 1974

Easter Sunday of the year I turned 14 was the darkest Easter I ever experienced, because April 4, 1974, was the day my mother died.

It’s fitting for me that today, April 4, 2015, falls on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It’s a day that carries a heaviness, a darkness, that I can’t shake. Every Easter feels that way, actually. It’s the day of blessed resurrection, yet always the day of remembrance of my mother’s death.

I say with Job, “I know that my Redeemer lives.”

I don’t know what else to say today.

***

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to The Dark Easter of 1974

  1. michellevl says:

    I’m so sorry, Tim. Even with the hope, there is still the sorrow, especially on anniversaries and holidays.

  2. Kathi says:

    I’m sorry Tim. Wishing you peace for your heavy heart.

  3. stephanielynn75 says:

    May you feel God’s peace today, Tim, and the warmth of his embrace.

  4. keriwyattkent says:

    Tim, my friend. I’m so sorry for your loss, even though it has been a long time. I am praying that today you’ll feel God’s nurturing love, the motherly, tender side of God that we often need but too rarely access. The Saturday between Good Friday and Easter is always a time we’re highly aware that we live in the now and not yet. How much more so when we are missing a loved one. May God’s mercies be new each moment.

  5. Jeannie says:

    Thanks for telling us, Tim. May you experience God’s comfort even in the middle of the sadness of this day.

  6. April Fiet says:

    I’m so sorry, Tim. Sitting with you.

  7. jean47 says:

    Tim…
    I’m so sorry you lost your Mom at such a young age, and on an Easter Sunday.
    Anniversaries and holidays are so hard after a loved one passes on.
    But for you, this is extra hard.

    My prayer for you-
    Along with His comfort, may you receive some new, profound revelation of God, even in the midst of your sorrowful rememberance.

  8. Jan Frazee says:

    I’m so very sorry, Tim, for your loss, and for the pain. Thank you for writing about it – it helps me feel comforted in my own losses.

  9. Bronwyn Lea says:

    I can’t imagine losing my mom now, at 38, much less when I was 14. Dates have a funny way of sneaking up on us with so much emotion, year after year. May the Lord continue to meet you with His faithful care and resurrection hope through another April 4th.

  10. Oh Tim, I’m so sorry. My father died when I was 18, so I understand a little. It’s just something that shouldn’t be the way it is.

  11. Tuija says:

    I’m sorry for your loss, Tim. But thanks for telling us about it. God be with you.

  12. Opa Bear says:

    Tim, you lost your mother at about the same age as I lost my father. For me the dreadful day was December 1, 1965, and it took forty more years until the sights and sounds off Christmas were no longer torment for me. It is better now, but I think for those of us who have had a parent die when we were not yet grown, it is a grief that will be healed only in eternity. We weep together.

  13. Laura Droege says:

    I am truly sorry for your loss. I wish you peace and comfort as you remember and grieve, and that those close to you know how to grieve with you. Thank you for sharing.

  14. I can’t think of anything worse than not being available for, present or attuned to my child. And at the very beginning of your adolescence, Tim, on Easter Sunday. That’s just horrendous and cruel. I am so sorry for your ongoing loss. May you find peace and comfort in the love of your family and friends. Hugs, if it isn’t inappropriate.

Talk to me (or don't)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s