I heard a story once that helped me. There was a "lost" time I had gone thru, a dark period that I think back on and liken as the "dark ages" or the period of time where intellectual reasoning, plan making, all the emotions of a carefree life don't exist. But this story (which took a lot of imagination - which I have) was a story of hope. Hope is a good thing - maybe the best of things and it's sometimes all we have to guide us through the dark ages.
There was once a spark of God-touched cell that divided into two. Then four; then eight. This cell within a matter of days grew to an embryo that you and I will call Embryo Joe. Well, let's say that in some kind of magical way, all the other embryos in all the other wombs of mothers in the world could communicate with each other and get to know each other. Let's say Joe was no different and began to have lots of friends. Well, ole Joe started to develop just like most embryos and before you knew it, Joe was a fetus then grew from there in leaps and bounds. Pretty soon, Joe had all his fingers and toes and a friendly little smile that every embryo loved. Ole Joe was strong and he started moving around and feeling like there was more to this universe and he stretched and he groaned and he pushed. Then one morning Joe felt like he was being pushed towards the brightest light he'd ever seen. He fought hard but he fell towards that light and Joe soon took his first breath of our earth's air and was born!
And all the other embryos in all the other wombs in all the mothers of the world who knew Joe and loved him said "Poor old Joe - he's passed away".
I guess this story gave me a Godly hope of things to come in a world where promises are often broken and hopes are regularly dashed. I pray you understand your gift of memory, of pain, and of hope. God bless.