Heartbroken.

I feel like my heart has been riped right out of my chest, and there's nothing left but, a big ugly hole. I knew this was going to happen. Inevitably, every time I take a new step along the path of strengthening or deepening my relationship with the Lord, the devil comes at me with both barrels in every possible way he can, big and small. And I feel like I've been fighting all of hell, for the past week,- internally. I know exactly what's wrong, I'm quickly approaching the second anniversary of my mother's death. And while I know logically and spiritually I don't have to allow myself to give into my sadness, I'm finding it harder and harder to fight off. It's been building for a while now. Hugh and I were married in May of 2001. Our wedding was beautiful, and as close to perfect as I could have ever hoped for. We were surrounded by our dearest friends and family. While the Lord has blessed our marriage , abundantly, we have not been without our share of heartache. We've lost six family members in the past six and a half years of our marriage. We lost Hugh's step dad, Neal first, followed by his grandfather, Hugh's beloved Papa. Then I lost my dad on November 25,2003, two days before Thanksgiving. And I lost momma two years and two months later, on January 31,2006. Daddy's death was real hard on momma, and the woman I'd always seen so strong, was suddenly paralyzed with grief. He had a massive heart attack, and we drove all night trying to get home, but he passed as we were about half way there. I was so grateful that my sweet mother- in- law dropped everything to go be with momma until we could get there. Hugh and I took the next week off from med. school and work to take care of the arrangements. We had a memorial in my home town of Indianola, and then a funeral and military burial at Ft. Logan National Cemetery in Colorado. My aunt and uncle stayed with momma for a while after we returned to Kansas City, but when they left she fell apart. She closed up the daycare, that she and daddy had together, and spiraled into a deep depression. She came to stay with us for a while, and then traveled for a couple months with my aunt and uncle. That is when she ran into an old high school sweetheart. They rekindled their relationship and were married by the end of the year. It all seemed to fall into place. She sold our home in Indianola within a week, which is a miracle in itself. Then, she packed everything up and moved out to Arizona. She really seemed happy, and although it was a big adjustment for me, I was glad to see her smile again. Hugh and I were already living here in Ohio, when we found out we were pregnant, with our first child. My mom decided she was going to fly up here to be with me for my birthday (February 2nd,) for Trey's delivery, and stay for at least the first six weeks to help me adjust to mommy life. She flew into Cleveland the night of January 30th. I'd only taken off the morning of the next day of work, because I'd asked off for my birthday, at the end of the week. After Hugh left for work the next morning, she came and got in bed with me and we talked for a couple hours. Then we had breakfast together, and she hugged and kissed me goodbye, and waved me down the driveway as I drove off to work. Hugh found her a couple hours later, unconscious. He called an ambulance and started CPR, but it was already too late. They said the cause of death was a dissected aorta. Why or how, we don't know, and maybe we never will. The rest is a blur. The family, the funeral, even my son's birth two weeks later on the 16th. It was like walking through a dream. My step father, Sonny, whom I'd only met once, but seemed very nice, told me not to worry about all my "stuff"- (well, mine, my mom's and my dad's) it would be out there (Arizona) as long as I needed it to be. He'd store it and take care of it. I was grateful, because I was still detangling my way through insurance, retirement, and other papers and policies of my mom's and dad's, not to mention having a new baby to take care of. Eight months later, I was pregnant with Anna Grace. So, now fast forward to the present.....I've been praying and planning to go out to Arizona and finally take care of things. My childhood home is packed up in the equivalent of three to four storage units out on Sonny's land, right next to his house. As I started getting everything together for this trip, the Lord started dealing with me, about letting go, allowing myself to finally heal. "Yes, Lord!" I said, "I think this will help me to grieve and even put a little closure on the last couple years."-No, you're not understanding me, I mean, it's ok to let go! "I'm sorry Lord, I must be misunderstanding you, are you saying I shouldn't go out there?" Is it worth it? It's just stuff. Is it really worth it? Worth time away from your family (Trey and Anna Grace,) the expense it will take to fly down, rent a uhaul, pack it up, drive it home, just to pay to store it again- not to mention the time off of work Hugh will have to take. Is it worth all that? "But Lord, it's all I have left of my mom and dad." Then send your aunt some money to send to you what is most important, (my wedding dress) and (all my family pictures.) And if that is all you get, then be ok with that, but trust me for the rest of it. Ok Lord, if that's what you think I should do...I don't want to , but I will. -When I finally gave in, I felt a peace about it. That is until today. It's gone! Almost everything is gone. It's been stolen or sold, I'm not sure which, but most of it is gone. All the clothes, including my wedding dress (which momma had cleaned and vacuum sealed, and was storing in the guest bed room closet, which I know didn't grow legs and walk out of the house, but none the less is gone!) Baby clothes and toys of mine that momma had saved for grandchildren- gone, furniture-gone, home movies, pictures-gone, momma's angel collection that I was going to give to her sisters- gone. And so on...It's not the material stuff itself, my feelings are hurt. WHY?!? Why would anyone do that? I cried tonight and told Hugh, it just makes getting through this time of year that much harder. Because I don't have brothers and sisters that I can reminisce with about growing up. And when I forget the little things, they're going to be gone forever. I feel like someone stole my memories. Oh well, now that I have written the longest post ever about feeling sorry for myself, maybe I can let it go. For those of you that made it all way through with me until the end- I apologize. I just needed to get it out! Prayers, please!