Her presence is so powerful right now, even engaging, with such a mixture of sadness, disbelief, sometimes euphoria, joy and wonder. It is truly no wonder that the fatigue of emotion sets in when these "anniversaries" occur, that the surges of feelings that really have no words roar and subside, weave and glide through my heart, my bones, my cells, my body, my mind, my spirit. I ask myself, how can we possibly be on the threshold of another anniversary, another month where all innocence was lost, where lives were hung in the balance, and then changed forever. How can I already be hearing her voice, the call from Chicago, the weeks leading up to the day when she could not breathe on her own and walked the long city blocks to a hospital in a pre-season mist of snow? Why am I looking at the suitcases that will be packed for the annual trip to Florida but only see the little overnight bag I took to Chicago, expecting to be home by the end of the weekend, only to learn that I would live in the same clothes close to two weeks and come home a completely different person? Why are my eyes misting with the changing colors of the leaves, knowing that the next weeks will replay every word, diagnosis, treatment, sound, touch and smell? Why do I find that sometimes I cannot do what once was so mundane and routine? Why can't I look through the bags and boxes that still sit in the basement, brought home from her apartment? Why does her death teach me so much about my life, about growing old, and about my own life in eternity? Why did she have to go? Who would I be now had she stayed? Why...how...why....how....the thoughts whirl inside, and there are no answers. And sometimes there is no sense in "going there"...but sometimes I must visit those places just so I can take that step in healing and living and striving to do what is necessary.
And as individual as grief can be, I continue to learn that for each of us what is necessary is different. I only wish I had Joe's physical energy, that going and wearing myself out on an 8 mile run after kayaking all morning, would somehow help me! I only wish I could immerse myself in a rewarding career once more, tying up my mind with the important thoughts and decisions, so much so that maybe for a short time I could just ease the grief. I only wish this would go away. But it won't, so for me, I do what is necessary. I walk so that I can participate in a 5K Lung Cancer Walk/Run in November, I read and pray and spend time in devotions and affirmations so that I can spend time with family and friends and do "normal" things like they do. I must wear God out for the many times I ask Him to help me get to the next hour or day or week or through a certain activity or anniversary. And He never fails me, I am still here, living, and doing what is necessary.
This beautiful time of year is so painful for many reasons, and while the memories surge and could take over, I am allowing them their place, but I am seeking to find the beauty. I know God is guiding me through the seasons of change in my life. I know it for when I could barely breathe this morning with the thought of fall and all it means to me now, there it was, simply stated, yet poignant and meant for me, in my Daily Word, "As autumn begins and temperatures cool, the most noticeable change is a colorful display of leaves. But there is also a shift within me, a sense of fresh energy and excitement. Visible changes remind me that all is evolving. Seeing God's transformational handiwork in nature triggers in me a deepening awareness of my potential for positive change. I find opportunities to grow closer to God and deeper in spiritual understanding. Whether the changes I face are minor or monumental, I have the spiritual tools I need to meet them with confidence and faith. With trust in God, I am guided through the changes life brings."
God knows how heartbroken and difficult these days are for me, for us, for our family and friends, but He shows me that I have this day, and this day only, so I will do what is necessary, here and now. Not for tonight, not for tomorrow morning, but for this moment, now. I will do what is necessary.
1 comment:
Hugs! Thinking of you and praying for peace in your heart.
Post a Comment