I'm Not Angry at God

There is a reality of life with great loss. A life that you have no choice but to face, it cannot be buried. There is a part of life when you need and want to face the circumstances, the emotions and what happens as a result. The need to understand, the need to be angry correctly...yes there is correct anger in my world. There is a hole, there is an emptiness there are so many questioning moments of wonder. And there is a lack of understanding on so many levels. There are people you just want to walk with in silence while others you want to talk to, some even rail at...but I am grateful that I am not angry at God. I have even asked why I am not.

October 11, 2017

I am still not angry at God. I have new questions and answers to questions I sought before are unanswered yet and some answered in very real form. I accept that completely. I can pass it off and use the answers as a way of justification but I am aware that would not be right. One of my biggest questions have been why did my daughter have to be taken from us? Why did someone I loved so immensely have to go away? Someone who had and did so much good. Why does my son have to lose his best friend and why does my son in law and grand daughter have to struggle in the ways they have and are with losing wife and mother? These are just some of the questions that have plagued me but they have been some of the most important ones. I no longer ask these questions. I believe God took my daughter to keep her from suffering from the cruel world. I believe she was taken to teach us about strength, perseverance, to make us better, more whole.

During the time of my daughters illness to the moment after final discussions to remove her from life support we disagreed with the primary dr, with the er and with some of the doctors on the 4th floor of icu. What did we disagree on...the fact that her death was caused by asthma, that the lack of oxygen to her brain was caused by asthma and that her bronchial spasms were caused by asthma. She didn't have a history of asthma and no matter the medication given to her before entering icu, it did not help her to breathe, in fact she got worse, she even suffered cardiac arrest. In 28 days my daughter went from not feeling well, to not being able to breathe well, to not hardly breathing at all, passing out from lack of oxygen, to cardiac arrest and later death. I demanded a specialist not only with her primary but in loud and terrified then angry fashion at her last er visit. Especially after they tried telling me she had the flu...I was angry and I knew better. Despite it all, despite everything...days after she passed we sought an autopsy...we wanted a medical explanation that made sense...medically none of it makes any sense still...why a specialist wasn't called in makes no sense, why we were completely ignored prior to icu makes no sense, why she was given the same medications over and over made no sense when they didn't help and she was getting worse. Why we were told it was just a cough, just a few days before her icu really made no sense and God forgive me but I looked at the doctor and called him an incompetent Fuck and asked him how her lack of breathing, her sweating and clamminess and extreme pain was simply a cough...all of this did make us wonder if it is because of the type of insurance she had. BUT then her autopsy results came back. Four pathologists later, four labs later, 6 weeks instead of days later and the results were the same. There was no medical reason they could find. Nothing nada, zilch. After a very short period of being dumbfounded I simply said God took her, that is the only explanation.

I am glad I had faith at that moment. I am glad that I had seen and felt what I had at that moment. I am glad that I had some understanding dawn on me in the days prior. I am glad that I recognized that we as parents must discipline our own kids by taking away to teach and I recognize that on a much bigger level before this moment and I knew in my heart of all that God took my daughter, to teach us and that those lessons are still being taught. That is the only thing that makes sense and that I can understand. This is why I am not angry at God.

I find less understanding in the smaller things that have happened since. The one person during our stay at ICU who made such a huge impact on our lives in such a short time; I actually believed would be there for a long time, in our lives and in more than just thoughts and prayers. I question frequently what made him walk away from us. After many conversations after the fact, after attending her minimal attendance memorial, after knowing he visited a friend in prison, after the both of us knowing the care and longing towards family, the depth of parts of our souls and our desires to help and be good, the simpleness of conversation that were greatly needed for me at the time and maybe for him, our discussions over hiking, verses, songs ect...I still do not understand his comment of him walking a different path, how it no longer included us and how it wasn't his path. With me being so new in faith, I looked forward to someone to talk to about everything that I was experiencing. I had questions and I was happy in my new faith and I wanted someone to be able to see that continual change in me...I am a believer of momentous change and being able to go back and say yep that person was there during that moment, they know how I was then and have seen me over the years...it's always really that one or two persons who are ever there during a life altering moment.

I can surmise at what I believe the reason to be is but I simply do not know and for whatever his reason was, I pray that for him it was the right one. I pray that it wasn't based on a judgmental moment, on assumptions or a lack of understanding as these I cannot imagine in this man but at the same time I believe that decision of his was just this. I pray that what I thought what were basic questions people ask all the time, the ones he didn't answer because he wasn't ready to...they those hurts become healed and that wall goes away. I pray that the gremlin bell we gave him for his motorcycle will always bring a good memory to him. I pray that God keep him safe in all his travels.

I miss the simple conversations, the basic comfort of basic conversation with this person. I miss the depth of being able to share although I think the sharing is part of what made him leave, despite the fact that he used to ask for it. Nonetheless. I have since purposely stayed away from his home town on my travels, both before and after the final goodbye. Even though it never happened, I miss the thought of companionable conversation on a simple walk. I miss being able to share the places I've hiked, where I want to visit and why. I miss sharing what I have learned since my daughters death...his simple words of wisdom. I even miss the "dang you can cook comments" In the end I've lost what I felt should have been a great friend, a unique friend, a true friend. I used to ask God why he would take away such a strong connection and undeniable. In always being able to remember that connection, I guess it isn't taken away in thought and memory. I was frustrated over this moment of complete not understanding but I did not become angry at God for taking away. I did learn as it was intended even though I feel I could have learned more. It really isn't my place to questions they why.

I watched my son in law exhibit his long standing angers and I have prayed. I have watched him vehemently, unjustifiably, unfairly and angrily lash out at people and even more so at God. I have watched him chase a rabbit down a hole called lawsuit with more than one attorney...something I want nothing to do with as my peace has been made. I watched my son in law take away my grand daughter over a conversation with someone and $20, that had nothing to do with me. I heard him apologize to me only to treat me worse than ever and accuse me of some horribly demeaning moments. I have watched him refuse the paperwork I had for my grand daughters school over the same reason. I have heard him trash my son for working, my dead daughter for things he said doesn't bother him and for me for working and not being the babysitter he thought I should be. I have heard him call me a pos grandmother who didn't care. I have read how he treats women and I can go on but the one thing through all of this that happened...the tears and angers and frustrations I went through, the unsent letter to him, the fear of losing my grand daughter, the plan of action I had to so call rectify not being able to see my grand daughter...I learned to be patient on a different level. I learned to be quieter and to move at a slower pace. I kept praying. I learned not to be rash and ask for guidance and to listen with a bit more heart, that inner voice that said don't do it, it's not the right way. I went from minutes away from filing for custody to several weeks later hugging my son in law...because I stopped and listened and asked about what was right. I knew that in a custody battle I would win but what I also knew is the last thing I wanted was to take a little girl from her father and to make things worse, even though the ends of the decision would be a tainted fruit to some degree, the more prominent outcome would have been one of shattering a person that didn't need to shatter more. It would have destroyed anything resembling positivity between my son in law and I and with a possible lifetime of issues. The only end result would have been I would have had custody, an angry father. I prayed that he would let me back in before I filed for custody. I prayed that he could be a good father, not an angry bitter one, not one who taught his little girl negative ways of dealing with issues. During this time I was not angry with God...in the end my son in law called me and asked if I wanted to see little one and in the end, we are back to where we were, me being a part of her life and to some degree, his. In the end, my words and my actions would not have been enough...being quiet and having faith...my prayers were answered and there are many more forthcoming for him and her.

Being angry with God would have made me bitter towards my son in law with the way I and others were treated. Being angry with God would have most likely left me with a sour taste in my mouth towards a nurse and accused him of some ugly downtrodden emotional moments...of which I don't even know what they would have been but I am sure I would have found something. Being angry at God would have made me a more distrusting, a much more lost person. I would not seek patience, guidance. I would not have someone to talk to when no one else was available. I would have nothing to pray for and no one to pray to. I would not have this faith I have. I would have most likely finally discounted that in all bad there is good. Instead I choose not to be angry with God and it is easy. I choose to pray for safety of others. I choose to live in the fashion that others happiness is more important than my own. I choose to seek God consciously in everyday. I believe that my relationship with God will provide me with better relationships in the world and with those I am around, even if they are short term in life. Things are falling into place, better than they were before when I tried to do it all on my own. While I still may not understand stand certain things I can look up, look within and see that mirror in my life and believe in the faith that I have....that the decisions, the actions, the happenings of life, there is most definitely a reason for it all and that faith in knowing this is what allows me to not be angry with God. This is what allows the acceptance of the path I am on. This allows my trust just as our children trust in us, even when not understanding.

And for those who ask why our God would allow something to happen...he never promised bad things wouldn't happen, just as us parent's don't promise...he simply promised he would be there, just as we tell our own children, we will be there.

I am glad and fortunate that I am not angry with God.