I'm really surprised at how differently I view now, the tragic death of my husband, toddler son and baby daughter. It's been over 30 years that I've dealt with the tragedy and I'm frequently surprised at how much has changed, regarding how I "see" the whole shebang of my tragic loss. Overall, the biggest change is that heartbroken loss has morphed into the realization that they're only one heartbeat away from me and quite close to me. In a way, it's like they've come back to me again, now.
I realized that my developing way of viewing the tragedy, was akin to how newborn infants learn to see. According to online references, just like the grief-stricken, each newborn develops their sight ability uniquely to them, although there are definitely general milestones to be reached.
At first, newborns can only see black and white and shades of gray. Sounds like me after early loss. All I knew was my family was Dead and I was Alive. Black and white. Like the news headlines about my accident. Like their death certificates. I've had a gradual evolution over the years of really knowing and feeling that my family is very much still alive, only physically dead. What's most important to stay alive . . . is still alive! The soul can never die:
Newborns are very myopic; they see about 20/400 at first. Like a newborn's eyes, my vision was non-focused and all I could see was what was right in front of me. I saw my loved ones everywhere in every blond young man, little toddler boy or baby girl. In anguish, I couldn't make sense of what I saw, just like a newborn's confusion. It takes them awhile to see details. "God is in the details," is one of my favorite sayings regarding His many blessings. I was initially either blind to, or unaware of important details of grace that came my way after my loss. Only later was I able to connect the dots.
Initially, only bright colors--like red--get the newborn's attention. Later on, more gentle colors can be discerned. I felt numb after my family’s death, and my vision consisted of blah color. Life took on a prolonged beige tint. It took me a long while after the accident before I could distinguish and acknowledge the beauty of something like rainbows--something my toddler Michael used to point to when the light reflected off our home aquarium, causing "Bow!!!" to appear, much to his utter delight.
Eventually, with developing vision, the baby is able to reach for things. After some grief resolution took place, and I could see things more clearly, I started to reach more aggressively for my Savior's hand to pull me through the many dark and cloudy days. He alone can guide us best because He alone sees perfectly. God has no blind spots. Without Jesus helping my "development," I would have been completely blind to God's many blessings revolving before, during and after the physical deaths of my family.
The most important blessing to me, is the recognition and concrete assurance He gives me--us--of eternal life and reunion with our loved ones . . . those in Paradise who now have superb, stellar vision.