Thinking back to the significant events of a year ago with Nate’s cancer dominating him, I’ve been reading my own blog posts: Sept. 27, the shock of diagnosis; Sept. 28, last day at work; Sept. 29, first radiation treatment; and Sept. 30, a difficult treatment day.
I’m letting my mind think back to that time just until the 42 dates have passed. And then, I tell myself, I won’t do it again. My widow pals say, “Go ahead and spend time remembering. Experience it again. It’s the most dramatic time of your life and won’t be dismissed without acknowledging the pain.”
And so I’m there.
Although reading the blog this week and looking at my 2009 calendar has been an exercise in mourning accompanied by occasional weeping, for the most part it’s been manageable and has made me appreciate Nate more than ever. But today a dam broke.
I was cleaning house in preparation for the arrival of nine college friends, sweeping up swirling clouds of Jack’s dog hair. Trying to slide a living room chair aside, I felt resistance so reached underneath, pulling out a child’s puzzle, the kind with tiny knobs on each piece for little toddler fingers. I’d bought it for Skylar, and when she recently visited, we’d found the other puzzles but not that one, the newest one.
With a rush of emotion, I knew it had to have been shoved under the chair a year ago when all of us daily sat with Nate in the living room. That one realization zapped me like an electrical shock, and I started to sob. When the puzzle went under the chair, Nate was still alive. Instantly I was swamped with overpowering longing to go back to this date a year ago; memories and blog reports weren’t good enough. I wanted to go back for real, to have Nate with me again.
Finding the puzzle produced a wrenching moment of impossibility without any remedy, and I could hardly stand it. The only thing to do was to pick up my broom and sweep… and sob.
In several more minutes the floor was clean and the crying was over. But then I thought of all the different reasons people cry, all the tough situations life brings. The variety is endless, and tears eventually come to all of us. No one is exempt from the feeling of “wrenching impossibility.”
As difficult as it was to experience that today, my gut instinct tells me it was a few moments of healing. I believe God orchestrates these blips on our emotional screens to distance ourselves from the heartbreaks in our history and bring us to a better reality absent of wrenching impossibility. This doesn’t mean new heartbreak won’t come. But somehow knowing we’ve made it through one disaster will help us get through another.
Before I put the puzzle away, I stared at it for a minute. I wanted to picture my grandchildren playing with it rather than the circle of sad family members in the living room last fall. And with the cheery mental picture of those little ones, I knew I could move forward.
At least for now.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)
You will be in my thoughts and prayers over the next 42 days. Love to you and your family!
Praying for you daily.
I am praying for you, Margaret. You are a wonderful friend.
Jesus, surround Margaret with Your great comfort. Bring Your thoughts to her mind and heart.
It’s surprising what will catch you off guard and send you into tears isn’t it. After my mom died years ago, I got some pictures back from the store and there were some pictures of my mom from the last time we had seen her, that I didn’t even remember that we had taken. Boy did that set me off!! — but I think they were partly tears of joy that I had those pictures! Love you lots! Do you find yourself crying when you are driving in the car? I used to drive around crying all the time — my mind wasn’t really that occupied while driving, so it went to sad thoughts of missing my loved ones.
Thank God for all of our widow tears; may they continue to flow freely as we heal. I’m hugging you, across these many miles.
thank you, dear Margaret, for opening your tender heart to us. We thank the Lord for you and pray for you and your precious family. Elmer Towns says: “weeping is part of prayer”…”When we cry before God, it’s a sign thatGod has touched the very center of our being. He has reached into the bottom layer of our heart to scratch away the scab that we dare not touch ourselves”…”anyone who has prevailed with God has probably cried the way to a new day and better tomorrow. For inevitably, tears lead to joy and victory.”
So feeling and identifying with your grief today. I just recently stumbled over some pictures from 2 summers ago of my husband and our grandchildren in Charlotte.I became unglued and the tears flowed. Thank God for tears and the healing they bring to the very depths of our souls.I am praying for you during these difficult “anniversary” days.
Praying that you will continue to heal during these difficult days.
It’s amazing what God will do to get us on our knees…when my Mom-in-law would need help, I often ended up down on my knees, in moments of literally wrenching impossibility!! She couldn’t help me and for some terrifying moments, I couldn’t help her. But we were not alone… and my faithful Helper surged His strength thru my tooth pick arms and whoosh! We were up! She would be giggling, thinking it was a close call…and I would be near-sobbing, breathing prayers of pathetic gratitude…”thank You, thank You…with You, all things really are possible!” As these re-lived days take you to Kleenex and your knees, may they both bend to each day’s needs. Our Friend sticks closer than a brother.
Dear Margaret–And what a year of emotions it has been. I think those of us who have followed your blog have seen what God has done through those tears as you have clung to Him and kept on. May your memories of Nate take on an even sweeter feeling this year! You are loved!
We are praying for you and your children during these next few months and have been with each new thing with out Nate. Much love and prayers. tlc
Margaret, my heart was touched yet again by your sorrow. I came across Job 23:10 months ago and continue to cling to it during Jennifer’s on -going pain. “He knows the way that I take, and when He has tried me I will come forth as gold.” He knows! Only God can accomplish gold in our trials!!! Saying goodbye to Nate for now is certainly at the top of the list of trials. I know that you agree with me that we long for spiritual gold from God. Those who follow your blog are seeing that gold being brought out in you. Love, Sue
The ‘refining fire’ is never pleasant or easy to get through…but praise God, He does get us THROUGH…one step, one day at a time.
Praying for you and family -in love.