365 Days.

I can’t believe it’s been one year without you down here. 365 days without hearing your voice or being able to tell you how much I love you, your wild freedom and joy that lifts anyone who comes near you. That’s about 912 ‘I love you’-s, 200 adventures, 52 dumpling dates, 365 belly laughs, 100 dance off’s, 365 cuddles, 1 season of MAFS, 121 cries together, 1 birthday and SO many new friends and incredible young people you didn’t get to meet – BUT YOU WILL because I promise to stay standing at the gates of hell to redirect traffic until the day I come home too!

I miss you more than words would ever be able to say, my heart has lost a best friend, a partner in crime, a confidant, a cheer leader but most of all – my sister. There are so many moments the loss of your friendship creeps up and breaks out of my chest, moments I least expect. Moments I have to excuse myself and sit in a toilet until it passes. Moments I have to be real and open my heart to the people around me. Moments I have to ask myself why I’m being prickly. Moments no one else is there and I need to communicate my need for support and moments I also don’t and I have to remind myself I’m gently held by the hand of a loving and infinitely kind Father who promised to never leave me alone – ever.

Loss is a tricky thing, it can’t be tamed, it can’t be calculated or put in a box, it’s different for everyone. In the beginning there is lots of people present, but as time goes on and life goes back to ‘normal’ for everyone else, I’ve found that life in fact is NOT normal anymore, it’s not normal for me, it’s not normal for anyone who was deeply connected and affected by her love. Life is different, it will never be the same.

There is space now where there wasn’t before. Space where she used to be, space her friendship used to occupy in my heart, space her encouragement isn’t there anymore, lots of space that people don’t see and may not understand. And that’s ok, those spaces are the spaces I’ve learned to collapse into the arms of God. Those spaces are the ones I’ve learned to call people into because I know I can’t make it through them alone. Those spaces have taught me the deep need we have for family, for relationship with each other – and not necessarily the masses, but the one or two who will be there for life. I’m so deeply thankful for those people who have come close. Not just when I’m not ok, but when I’m doing well too. I’m so thankful for the ones who have shared and understood the moments, the significant dates, the birthdays and the anniversaries. Thank you.

And then there’s Mum and Dad. You will never know just how deeply your forgiveness, unconditional kindness and love, gentleness and embrace have impacted me. I have met the grace of our Father through your lives. I will never be the same for the way you have both loved me even in the midst of your own hearts grieving the space where Kimmy used to be. Every time something bothers me, I remember the great grace you have shown me and have NO excuse to hold onto anything – ever. You have both been Jesus with skin on to me. Thank you for holding me in the breaking even when your own hearts have been breaking too.

Grief is normal, it’s the heart pouring out all the love we have but aren’t able to give anymore. I have learned that there is a beautiful tension, the tension between allowing our hearts to speak, and staying grounded in truth in the midst of the loss.

The truth is Kimmy is more alive than we are now, she is forever safe from the torment, sickness, heartbreak and pain of this world – and the grip of satan. The truth is we don’t grieve as the world grieves – as those who have no hope (1 Thes 4:13). We HAVE hope! Thanks to Jesus, we have hope that we will be reunited with her in glory when we put off our earthly tent and take up our crown of life! (James 1:12 / Rev 2:10).

When I was on holiday in America, my friend asked me ‘Do you miss your parents?’ ‘Not really’ I said, ‘Why not?’ ‘Because I know I’m going to see them again soon’ I said, ‘It’s the same with Kimmy!’ He said ‘You’re going to see her again soon! Remember that! Just ask yourself, is the grief producing fruit? If not, you’ve forgotten the truth, and how to grieve with hope.’ That’s the beautiful tension. Being anchored in truth, and allowing our hearts the space to speak when they need to. There’s no formula, no ‘end’ date – just waves to ride out as they come. I encourage you, let your heart speak. Don’t shut it down, just ask yourself the question ‘is this producing good fruit?’ If not, just get back into truth!

I’m not afraid to die. I know where I’m going and it is FAR better than this present reality! I so look forward to joining you in our Endless Summer Kimmy! But until then, like I promised, I will stand at the gates of hell and keep redirecting traffic, for I know, He’s wildly better than we could ever think!

I love you Kimmy and I miss you everyday.

See you soon, your bestie and partner in crime – Elle xxxxx

Published by

Chanie Fizzle

Life is short. Shorter than we think. The veil that separates now from forever - very thin. Love every moment with intentionality. As though it were your last, because it very well could be.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s