I Am Sad Mad

     For Anton's first birthday in heaven, I took a week off from work.  I did not have anything specific planned out. Afterall, there really isn't much of a choice given the COVID restrictions.  On the evening of Day 2, I decided to watch Home.  I vaguely remember it being a silly movie that Anton and I enjoyed.  It was going really well until this scene.

    In the scene Oh was trying to figure out Tip's reaction; why she was mad at him for leaving her alone for a long time. He concludes that she is sad mad. Her anger is stemming from her sadness.  I recalled explaining to Anton when he was younger how, oftentimes, people get angry because they are hurt. And the people who can hurt us the most are people we love.  So, whenever I get mad, it is normally because someone I love did something to break my heart.  And because I love him the most, no one could hurt me more than him.  I realize, it might be too much to put on a little kid, but this started his habit of checking, "Is it a good day, Mom?  Do you have a happy heart?"

    The flood gates opened. I was full-scale MTV-video levels crying-while-hugging-pillow-in-bed.

    Even after the movie finished, I was still bawling. When I realized the tears won't stop anytime soon, I decided to pray; maybe to Jesus.  I don't even recall what exactly I prayed for.  All I can remember is that I kept telling Him, "I am in so much pain".  

    And in the darkness, as I cried, a visual came to my head of a big man holding me.  I thought it was Jesus, but it was not the usual image I see during contemplative prayers.  He was not holding me the same way and the syntax of what He said did not feel like Jesus.  He held me gently yet firmly and said, "Go on. Lay it all on Me. Blame Me."  

    As I broke down all the more, burying my face deeper into His embrace, He said, "Oh, child!  It is not your fault!" (It was God the Father holding me!)

    Then I thought back to earlier this evening. My heart broke for G when her friend did not show up for afternoon walk.  I knew she would inevitably bump into her friend again around the village, but I also knew how painful it was because she had expected him to be there. But he wasn't.  At that moment, I just hugged her because I knew nothing I said would really make her feel better.  She ran back inside the house sad-mad.

    I am sad-mad because I expected my son in my future. But he is no longer here. I am sad-mad because I did not get to save my son from his final sufferings.

    After I had calmed down, I listened to The Catholic Daily Reflections for May 21st.  It was just the balm I needed.  And I knew the reflection was exactly what God the Father wanted to tell me.

    It talked about how, in Jesus's conversation with Peter (where He asked if Peter loved Him 3x), He also knew how Peter would eventually die -- and how He approved of Peter's ultimate act of love for Him.  He is not happy that Peter is suffering, but He is happy that Peter is offering his suffering as an act of love for Jesus.  There is a greater good in it.  

    I should not focus on a small detail, but see The Big Picture.  During those final hours my son suffered gracefully, in absolute faith and hope in God.  He suffered lovingly and prayed earnestly, putting his trust in Jesus, Mary, Joseph ... and San Raphael, "Mom, I also prayed to San Raphael to heal my tummy."

    I broke down once more.  But, this time, it was out of comfort, relief and gratefulness ... and a little bit of #ProudMom moment.

    My thought echoed St. Elizabeth's, "Who am I that God the Father should come and comfort me?"

    "Why do you think I am here at this hour?  Because I knew you would come.  I came just for you [because I love you]." (From The Chosen, when Jesus came by the well to see the Samaritan woman).