It seems it can’t be real, but I know it is.
These words made me feel more seen than I have felt in a very long time.
I was giving my book, God Is In The Doubt, to a new friend, and she asked what it was about. I said it is a memoir on keeping faith through loss, my personal journey. Then a mutual friend who knows much of my story said, “It seems it can’t be real, but I know it is.”
I knew neither of these people until this year. Neither knew me to see what I have experienced, but the one who said this has ample access to my close friend, and also several other people who have known me for a long time. I hope he verified things with them, because I have nothing to hide.
Being skeptical of things that are in my book is natural. I am still reeling that this is my reality. If I did not experience these tragedies, if someone came up to me a said half of this was their reality, I’d likely be skeptical.
When I went looking for synonyms of unreal, Webster’s Thesaurus listed many under the section “as in absurd” which also contain fantastical, unbelievable, preposterous, and many like these. Yes, absurd seems accurate.
Saying my reality seems unreal, as in absurd or unbelievable, equates to saying it is not fair. Probably several times a week, I used to tell Caleb that “Life’s not fair.” Be careful what you say to your children. Your words will haunt you. I say to God daily, “It’s not fair!!”. I have written about this numerous times, like Yelling at God: Shameless Venting of Anger in Grief
I know very well that life is not fair. For some, it means they get far more than most. For me, it’s a lot of dreams that I could tentatively hold in my hands for a moment and then have them snatched away. People think this means I was blessed to hold some dreams for a moment. Yes, after years of trying, I was finally happy to have my son and thrilled to experience life with him. While I pined to have a child when we were childless, that is not a harsh pain like having one die.
Having a child die is unnatural but not incredibly rare. Having a child die by suicide has some extra complexities which makes life harder, like social stigmas, strained relationships, and familial abandonment. Additionally, our combined 15 years of infertility, miscarriages, and failed adoptions help fuel the absurdity, along with multitudes of health issues, flood, fire, business failures, and more. Preposterous!
Being seen and having someone else call out the fantastical felt reassuring. Too often, I question my reality.
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