Chipping away

Here I sit at 1:15am in Clay's bedroom, looking at all the things that are Clay Tully. From his dirty Wrangler jeans, Cabela's sweatshirts, camo pajama pants, hunting t-shirts and button up plaid shirts. His dirty Caterpillar hat and when I say dirty, I mean grease filled, bent brim hat, careful when you touch it, will leave you sticky, hat and the grease hand prints that cover his door. These things I don't ever want to change.

A nice young man that that Michayla and I have become friends with that works at Dutch Bros had asked us one day what we've been doing lately, I asked if he really wanted to know. He said yes, so we told him about Clay. He then told us about his father passing away when he was younger and the effect it had on him. What a great young man he is. Today, he asked me how I am, I shrugged my shoulders then started to cry. Tears welled up in his eyes and he asked if he could give me a hug, he then jumped through the coffee shop window and gave me a hug. It's people like him that don't need to have sympathy for our situation, but does. He doesn't know how much it meant to me.

As I have had time to reflect on Clay's Birthday celebration last week I am humbled by our family and friends. It was a hard day for all of us. Clay truly had an impact on a lot of people's lives, even if he hadn't known them that long. We made cards that were in remembrance of Clay. On them was a Colorado Blue Spruce tree seed. Hopefully it will fall off and a tree will be planted wherever it lands. On the back of the card we wrote our own personal note to Clay and attached it to the balloon, then at roughly 8:15p we released the balloons into the air.
One of the best things about being at the cross that night, time was actually spent talking amongst each other, because cell phone service is so limited. The only time I saw them out was to take a picture to remember the special occasion. Seeing the sunset, the beauty God created, sharing that with them was enough for me.

I am having a hard time understanding the never ending question of why. I know I've said that before but looking at the huge picture, Clay was not a bad kid, he didn't have years and years of being in and out of trouble with the law. He was an average boy just trying to find his place in this world and I just really hate knowing that I will never get to see him achieve any of those dreams he set out to have. The questions, the doubt, the guilt seem to get worse with each passing day and sometimes I wonder if I am losing my mind. I know that death changes the rules of behavior: bizarre is normal, normal is crazy and the world is upside down. I am in a fog most days, I can't get the thoughts that I am thinking into words that make sense. I hear what is being said but I'm not really listening. Sometimes I feel like I move in circles, like a goldfish in a bowl searching for answers.

Grief is like a storm that will never end; it's the worst possible kind of storm that drenches one's spirit and batters up the soul. No rainbows are possible during the initial stages of grief. Rainbows appear after a storm, not during.

God didn't promise days without pain, but He did promise to light the way. He also promised that He will comfort and give us strength in our moments of deepest need and that one day our tears will turn to laughter.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Matthew 11:28

86 days