Sunday, January 9, 2011

Stage Two

Anger. It is somehow labeled as "stage two" of grief, yet it doesn't logically fall between stage one and stage three...more like it sneaks up after four, again before one and again after three. Really, anytime it pleases. 

Anger. This word seems to adequately describe my emotional disposition lately, and it is an emotion that is generally so easy and straightforward for me to acknowledge, understand and address. However, it has been just the opposite, bringing about frustration and confusion as I attempt to dissect it. It is an anger that seems to constantly change directions although it is not directed at God, or at anyone or anything in particular, other than our current reality that Aaron is not here and never will be. My hands are tied. I can't bring him back, I can't change the situation, yet, I can't seem to let go of this anger that I have recently found brewing and churning in my heart. An anger with no purpose...frustrating.

By nature, I am a logical person. I’ve learned to turn off emotions that are unproductive and unpurposeful. What I mean is, if the anger won’t change anything, or won't/can't lead me to change anything, then why spend my time and waste my energy being in that state? As I've walked through this trial, a trial greater than I ever fathomed would become part of my story, I've learned that logic doesn't cut it.  These emotions are too big; I can’t just turn them off. I want to let go of this anger; I don’t want to hold onto it, but it is holding onto me. At times I feel I may collapse under the strength of it’s grip. I don’t want to feed it or give reason for it to dig its roots down further into my heart and take foot, changing the core of my being in ways that I do not want to change. 

As this anger bubbles up and slowly turns into sheets of tears that burn my eyes and soak my face, two things always fall from my mouth: I hate that our son is not here and, during most days, I hate watching life go on around us. Hate. It's a strong word and one that I seldom use, yet, it is the truth.  

This gripping anger; it remains after the tears have come and gone. It leaves me weary and frustrated. It blurs my vision and keeps me from seeing the change and perspective on life that God is calling me to see through this trial. 

Father, I miss him. Please, take this anger, open my eyes and be gentle with my heart. 


  1. I'm sorry..I know you hurt so badly. You know it's a stage you have to go through, even if it doesn't make any sense at all. Hopefully, it will pass sooner, rather than later. Hopefully, it won't return, and instead you will find peace. Love you and always here for you. In our prayers constantly. xoxoxo

  2. Thank you for the message on Logan's blog yesterday. It means a lot.

    I am sorry that you are going through so many emotions as you grieve for Aaron. I am sure it is hard to not be angry. Praying for you! {{{HUG}}}

  3. Danielle, I am always encouraged by your words. I'm sure that sounds weird with a post like this... but I'm encouraged by the fact that you ARE facing everything so head on. It might feel like you have no choice, but there are a million unhealthy ways you could be dealing with this. And also, I know all of us that are praying for you may not know what you feel like... may not be going through it through your shoes, but you are not alone. Of course God has never left your side, but he's also placed people around you to be there for you. I know I'm not the only one who thinks of and prays for you on a daily basis. I love you, and I believe God is doing more works in your heart and in your life (and in Aaron's and in Dan's) than you ever imagined.

  4. I know this feeling of anger all too well. For me, it came almost right after his death, and now comes and goes. I am just so confused as to why he didn't make it, and so many others do. Why my son? Why us? Your strength is amazing, and you have such a wonderful soul. Lots of hugs.

  5. Even as one who walks this path, who feels the impossibly deep sadness and the volcanic boiling of anger, I feel like what you say is so sacred that I don't have a right to say anything in response. I, like so many others, am at a loss.

    So I just want to leave it at that and let you know that in your anger, you are loved. We weep with you.

    Much love,

  6. After Sawyer died someone told us that it is ok to be angry at G-d. They went on to tell us that if any one can take the anger it is G-d. I try to remember this when I am angry. It doesn't always help but sometimes it does. Maybe it will help you too. I wish that I had some words to take away the pain and anger. Please know if I knew any I would tell them to you. Take care.


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