When someone we love dies, our minds spend a great deal of time looking back. If we’ve been at the bedside as death arrived, we go over and over that sequence of events because of a driving need to do so.
Watching someone die is distressing and can’t be dismissed by a quick act of the will, and I’m not sure it would be a good idea to do so anyway, even if that were possible. Looking back for a while feels like honoring the loved one who has passed away, which in turn helps the one still living.
I’ve gone over the hours and minutes leading up to Nate’s death again and again, combing through the details. Something in me longs to dwell there for a while longer, knowing eventually my heart will leave for good, although my mind will always remember the facts, minus the sadness.
I find myself wanting to rearrange events and conversations like a chef wants to put a messy spice rack back in order. Of course I know rearranging the past is fantasy, but how do I swap looking back for moving forward?
Recent days seem more difficult than those immediately after Nate died, as if a scab covering a wound has been pulled off and the injury has to start healing all over again. Experts tell us the grieving process is moving along well when we stop reliving the last days and the death scene and instead replay good times we had together before the disease came. Although I felt I was doing well in the healing process, maybe I’m not.
Hospice has kept in touch with us since Nate’s passing and has offered emotional support throughout the first year. They’ve told us that the birth of Micah Nathan and the coming of the twins in England can be roadblocks to grieving at the same time they’re a cause for rejoicing. This might be especially true for the parents of these little ones, our daughter with Micah and our son fathering the twins.
Hospice warned that as we met and got to know Micah, we’d have some feel-bad moments. His middle name represents a relationship he’ll never know, which is another small hurdle for us to jump, even as we take pleasure in his significant name. Hospice suggests we save something of Nate’s to give to Micah, a tangible link between the two Nathans, not so much for Micah’s sake as for ours. They also suggested we write letters for the baby in an effort to give grandpa-info to him while it’s still fresh. This will simultaneously help our grief.
Skylar with Nate Nicholas with Nate
Recently I had a dream that may have revealed where I am emotionally. I saw it like a movie of someone else, although I was in it. Nate and I were hugging, then stepped back to look at each other face to face while holding hands. We continued back-stepping, letting go, without making any effort to stop ourselves, yet neither of us seemed frustrated as the gap widened. Eventually we stepped back so far, we both dropped out of the scene completely.
It was a sad dream but a slice of life as it is. Nate is completely out of my sight, but I can somehow “see” him a little if I relive those last weeks. Eventually I’ll hop over them to the happy times before, a sign that grieving is almost at an end. God’s plan is to bring healing, not to extend hurt, and I eagerly look for his release.
“Though he brings grief, he also shows compassion because of the greatness of his unfailing love. For he does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow.” (Lamentations 3:32-33)
It’s a good idea to write down something that these new babies that never met their grandpa can read over and over again when they want to!! Or at least you can tell them about Nate too.. I was the oldest grandbaby on my mom’s side and the 2nd youngest on my dad’s side. I remember both of my grandpa’s but my younger couins on my mom’s side never asking anything about our grandpa or their grandma that has been gone years before they came to us. I wish my uncle would tell his doughters about their grandpa, but he and his wife has told them he’s dead and it’s nothing more to talk about. I’ve tried to tell them things when they have seen pix at our grandma’s place but they just ignore and say he’s dead so we don’t need to know anything else. I think that’s sad, because if grandpa would be living stil he would care about us grandkids alot!!
I’m happy that I got to know my grandpa’s for 4 and 5 years of my life.. but please tell Micah and the twins about Nate!! Even if I got some years with my grandpa’s I want to know more about them stil..Nate was a wounderful person! I stil can see you as “my” extra family since Hans and Katy’s wedding =)
Love
This Blog itself will be a gift to them. It tells so much about your entire family and has pictures as well. What lucky children they all are!
Thank you again for sharing so honestly. I have found myself three months after loss wondering many of the same things. Why do these days seem harder than last month? Shouldn’t the pain lessen and my heart hurt less? How do we stop looking back and move forward? Trusting in Him with you- in His great compassion and unfailing love! And clinging to His promises to be close to the brokenhearted and heal them; to bind up their wounds and to save those crushed in spirit (Ps.34:18;147:3).
Pictures mean so much. While cleaning and sorting this past summer, I found pictures of my Dad, his parents, and siblings when he was a small child, and also those of other relatives. I’ve been able to show these to my children (who knew their grandparents) and their spouses who never met them. It helps to give a sense of family history.
Margaret, God is so awesomely gracious -even in our dreams…I thought that was beautiful – and thank you for sharing such an intimate part of you. The greving process is so different for each one…no one should or can put a time-span on it….and I say.”each new day is a step forward in the healing process”. Trying to ‘mask over’ your feelings or bury them is NOT GOOD…and those that know you..understand…absolutely no one else matters.!!! Hospice is a wonderful organization…but NO ONE..knows how another FEELS or THINKS unless they voice it…and if you choose not to…it’s between you and God..so be it, He knows all….and besides all this…it’s only been – what – 2 1/2 mos.? Let the healing process happen naturally…I think you’re doing great!
I continue to pray for you, cry with you, and encourage you to keep your focus on the one who is the giver and taker of life…HE – is ‘getting YOU though this”. His promises are truth and comfort and He truly never leaves us alone.
Hi Margaret,
You are doing well in the healing process, which does not mean the absence of pain and sorrow, nor is “success” measured by a specific timetable.
God has placed many people in your path to help “coach” you through, yet ultimately, it is a walk done in the singular with your Savior. I think that’s why Psalm 23 is written in first person- it’s not we and us, but me and I all throughout the Psalm. It gives the Shepherd intimate time with you alone in that valley. He doesn’t mind leaning on His staff as He watches you pause or step back or move off to the side. He comes and sits with you by the quiet waters. He guides you in paths, but does not drag you, as after all it is a walk and not a run. The Psalm does end on a high note. A prepared table, an anointing of oil, an overflowing cup, goodness and lovingkindness nipping at your heels, they can all be anticipated… but probably not right now.
It would be hard to dream that dream, and wake up from it. Neither letting go nor holding on seem like very good options- they pull from different directions. Like a tug of war, eventually one direction will win out over the other, and when that happens it will be on His timetable, when you are ready. It is good to know the Lord takes no pleasure in your sorrow.
“Lord, since we are heading to a place where there is no more sorrow, I’m not sure why You are storing up our tears here in a bottle, or what You will do with it in the future. But You do see every drop. In her grief this day,answer her in a way that will bring comfort and healing.”
Love,
Terry
For me it has always been easy to be patient with others but what a different story it is for me to be patient with myself. Its much harder. Maybe its a woman thing. Margaret, please don’t think you should be where you aren’t in this grieving process. Be patient with yourself and let God do His work as you grieve–one day at a time.