Empty Arms – 3 Months On

Today is the 7th of April, just one day shy of 8th,  exactly 3 months after my son Jason passed on. This is a difficult day, because it reminds me of when he went to be with the Lord, or rather, when the Lord took him. I want to believe that my son loved to be with me, with us, and would have loved to continue to stay with us. But my little darling was unconscious, and that decision could only be made for him, not by him.


God knows best why He took him, what He was saving him from and receiving him into. He knows what it would have meant for us to have him (oh how special in my view!) and what it would mean for us to not have him – and He still must have a good plan, a very good plan indeed, even though it is ever so painful.


The doctors told us that after 3 months, we could go and collect his death certificate. That’s not the certificate that I want to hold about my son. I want to hold his birth certificate, his nursery school graduation certificate, his primary education certificate, his high school certificate, his university degrees certificates…..anything but that death one. It is so final, so finishing, so painful, so terrible. Oh can there be any peace in this?!


I long to be with my son. I miss him every day, every hour. Wherever I am, I think of him, and many times I break down. Sometimes I have to walk away, sometimes my heart just dies again and I disconnect from my present world, and go away in mentally – to a place where I am with him. A place where he’s alive and well, and I’m holding, hugging, and cuddling him. Where I’m looking into his eyes and he into mine, holding hands, smiling. And then the rude reality hits, and I’m jerked back to my empty present, my empty arms.


So I hug his teddy bear, and pour my tears into its warm furry self. I cry and want to sleep and wake up with him near me, next to me, in my arms. My poor little child, my darling, my best baby boy ever.


It’s been a journey of ups and downs after his passing. The greatest down was his passing on. We miss him. It’s a never-ending, sharp, squeezing, pounding, piercing kind of pain. Seeing the support of family and friends is a great encouragement. People sharing their experiences with us is a huge, timely blessing. Support in doing some very regular and mundane things is a big gift. Just breathing is a lot of work. That nice book, text message, whatsapp message, facebook inbox, email, phone call, visit, that hug – that contact means the world when it comes. And when someone cries with me, with us, I feel that they are touching our souls where they need to be touched the most. And I am eternally grateful.


As I stare at my empty arms, I am reminded that God’s arms are not empty for my son. They have my son. He is warm, safe and secure in God’s hands. He is resting on God’s chest, and God is telling him how much He loves him, how special, wonderful and important he is and how great and awesome are the plans that He has for him. I picture Jason as a happy young man, playing with Jesus, asking Him about His big ‘father Abraham’ kind of hair and beard, and playing with huge, lovely, multi-colored toys. He’s also going to see all the places we talked about in Sunday School as I taught his elder sister – Noah’s Ark, the rainbow, the stars and universe that  God made, everything. I see him having fun. I see him telling me that he’s in better hands now, and that he’s okay, as okay as he can ever be. So although my arms are empty, my heart is not. It is filled with beautiful things – memories of the good life we shared, and wonderful imaginations of him up there in heaven with Jesus. And because I’m also God’s child and in His arms, then we are still together, even though he’s shining so bright that I can’t quite see him – not just yet.

16 thoughts on “Empty Arms – 3 Months On

  1. Jennifer Muthoni says:

    Ann, this thing called death robs us of only but the best but when I think about it, these we call the best go to be with the Lord. In short, God also loves the best and I convince myself that He takes them to protect them from something only He can foresee. I lost my fiance, the Love of my life, my baby daddy close to six years ago and the pain is still as fresh as that fateful morning when I received the news of his demise. I look at my son who is so innocent calling my brothers Baba not knowing he would be in the arms of his biological dad had death not snatched him from us. One thing I encourage myself with is that he only slept and I shall be reunited with him on that great day of the Lord.
    Its not wrong to hold on to the memories of our beloved but lets concentrate on celebrating the time we had with them. God comforts and heals and I know he has our best interests at heart.


  2. Maggie says:

    Only God knows your pain. I can only imagine. May He who knows, truly your pain and sorrow comfort you! Like you say, our only comfort is that we know His word is true and His enemy, death, is a conquered one, when we die, we shall be with Him.

  3. Loice Byler says:

    I feel your pain once again but you said it so well. You are both God’s children and he is holding both of you so you are still together. I love you

  4. Veronicah says:

    He who takes the best knows whats best for us, siz take heart He wipes the tears of those who mourn and he heals those crushed in spirit. Jason wants you to be happy that he is in a better place and forever make him proud to have had you as his mother. Brave yoself and make him proud.

  5. Bernard Warui Wairura says:

    Ann, your son is just but resting, resting from the pain and hustles of this life, free from the heat and the pain of this world, enjoying the presence of the father. He is not lost and I pray that the Lord will give you grace and strength through this time and in all you life. That He shall keep you holy for the great reunion is not far off, it is just around the corner. When you and your son will be united never to be separated!

  6. Mary says:

    They (Jason and Jerry) are probably playing together with gold and all the beautiful things in the safe arms of our Daddy.
    As their mummies, we can only trust God to reunite with them one day


    • amazing says:

      Yeah, who knows?
      Let’s keep trusting God, He knows best, and He will carry us through all of the challenges associated with losing our children. He will take care of us and love us. He won’t let us down. Let us allow ourselves to be loved and taken care of by Him. We will understand it better by and by…especially if we walk faithfully with Him and make it to heaven and see our little ones again!!!

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