To Mars and the Stars

To Mars and the Stars

Mornings are different now.  I wake to the reality of living our lives without you.  Your parents and your sisters fill my thoughts.  I try to go about the motions of the day as I wrestle with the disbelief of it all.  As I try to put together the right words it causes me to think of your precious little face as a baby and the beautiful young woman you had grown to be.  My mind replays your dreams of the future and I weep again and again at the loss of you.

Oh Stacia, how I’ve longed to write something that would honor you.  Words that would capture even a small glimpse of what you mean to me.  What you mean to all of us.

My pen that has long helped me process and express my feelings in a way my voice never could now betrays me.  My pen is not equipped to tell of this kind of pain.  There is not enough ink in the world to convey the depth of our sorrow or the despair I feel when I look into your mama’s eyes or watch your dad walking through his grief.  Words can’t help me take your sisters hurt away or bring you back.


How do I begin to explain the numbness that fell on me as your Uncle Jeff took the call and whispered  words I never thought I would hear and he never thought he would have to say.  A sentence that seemed……impossible.  So final.  A sentence I cannot repeat even now.

I had held you in my arms just a few short hours before.

It just couldn’t be.

We had all talked about your new school year..  Your change of career plans.  We had no doubt we would see them come to pass.  These dreams, such a perfect fit for you.  We chatted about your job and Camp Leo.  Taylor kept telling you how much she loved you and how unbelievable your American Eagle discount was.  She asked how many babies you wanted to have someday and you laughed at me a little when I asked if Diabetic people could get gestational diabetes. You patiently tried to explain sorority relationships to your Uncle again and as you told him about “Bigs” and “Littles” he jokingly asked if there were any “Middles”.

We were casual when we talked about your drive back to school and reminisced about how you had always loved to drive long distances.  It must have been the cowgirl in you that loved the open road.

Oh love, had I known what the next hours would bring I would have never let you go.  I would have hugged you in that parking lot until the sun came up. I would have told you to quit your job and stay home. I would have driven you safely back to your family and kissed you one more time. I would have sent you on your way to follow your plans and walk into your future.  If only I had known.

But that wasn’t to be…..

I have struggled with hope in recent days.  I have resisted the peace and comfort I know  is found in my Lord.  Sometimes, for no other reason than my thoughts are so scattered.  Other times for simply not wanting to be comforted.  Preferring the walls of my pain over the steady wave of Jesus’ love that promises to refresh and strengthen me.  How could I want to be comforted when your mama won’t hold you again and your daddy has lost one of his precious girls?  How can I be filled by the presence of my Savior when my nieces cry over the loss of their sister.

Is the love of my God big enough for this?  Can His love quiet this raw torrent of pain?


Then like a gift, I remember your smile.  So bright. So true.  So ready to love and be loved in return.  I think of a little girl.  So tiny and brave when Diabetes came crashing into your life.  Your world soon turned upside down by needles, blood sugars and a pancreas that had let you down.

My love and admiration for your family grew even stronger in those days as I watched the way you took care of each other.  Courageous and real in the face of every challenge.  It wasn’t easy but you and your family are knitted tightly together and you made it through.  You kept walking it out until you became a inspiration and a role model for other kids facing the same giant.

I flash forward to a table at Denny’s one night.  You as a young teenage girl.  Reminding your big sister, cousin and your Uncle and I that if “God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.”  We didn’t need to keep talking.  You had said it all.

The fog now has begun to lift and the unwavering love of His promises has begun to make me new again as I remember that my hope is anchored securely and without fail in the love of our Savior.  His Comfort finds me as I read His words and I am relieved that I don’t have to try to make the right words flow from my pen because He has already given us all the truth we need.


He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.  Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit. Psalm 147:3

Grief doesn’t come in pretty packages or follow anyone’s timeline.  Our lives are forever changed and our hearts will never forget.  We will walk out the rest of our days wishing you were with us to share in the moments.   We will hold your parents close and love on your sisters at every opportunity because we know that their way is longer and steeper than ours and because they are so very dear to us.

Through it all I will trust in His great promise that His love is in fact big enough to hold the chasm within all of our hearts.

“I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:16-19

As the leaves change into their falling colors and the morning air turns crisp I am reminded that time doesn’t stop to respect our loss.  I pray that as the hours march on we would all continue to hold each other a little tighter, sincerely light up when we see each others faces, that we would linger a little while longer and truly listen to each others hearts.

I pray that we would continue to hope.

Because that’s what you taught us sweet girl and we are forever grateful.

We Love you Beautiful One…

To Mars and the Stars,

Aunt Deon




18 thoughts on “To Mars and the Stars

  1. You know, I use to be considered a pretty good writer, but you Deon, have gracefully challenged the heart of grief and so poignantly expressed what so many of us are feeling. I thank you for saying what I could not, for expressing the doubt and recognizing the sorrow; for coming to prayer and forgiveness, but not forgetting the precious life so quickly removed fromthise who loved her most. Your words served you well. Thank you for sharing

  2. Thank you, sister, for sharing your heart and for using the gifts God has given you. Blessings on you and your precious family.

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