Today marks two weeks without Nate. He is all I think about, and I still let my mind meditate in detail on the moments of his last days. This seems odd, seeing as 14 days have passed, but trauma makes its mark, and I can’t think apart from it.
“Should I stop blogging about your father?” I asked several of our grown kids. “Will people get tired of hearing about his fight with cancer and his death?”
They all responded that losing my husband two weeks ago doesn’t constitute a reason to move on. I was thankful for their answer. It’s therapeutic for me to talk, write and think about Nate.
Today I was thinking back two Tuesdays ago to a few minutes after Nate died. All of us were at a loss as to what to do next. Life had increased in intensity from the day of his cancer diagnosis until his death, which was somewhat like the conclusion of a fast-paced drama. How do you follow that? And how do you avoid falling off an emotional cliff when it’s all over?
We had decided that night we’d do what Nate would want us to do and eat the Chinese carry-out food we’d just put on our plates the moment before he chose to move into eternity. Just before we began eating, each of us feeling subdued and strange, we needed a quick boost.
Earlier in the afternoon while Nate slept, I’d opened the day’s mail. In it was a letter to Nate written by a four-decades-long friend of ours, Lynn. As we sat with our dinner plates on our laps in the living room as we’d done when Nate was in his lazy-boy there, I decided to read from the letter:
“Nate, you are a fine example of running the good race, keeping a steady pace even when the ‘walls’ of life hit you hard. In keeping with this theme, we got an idea for the Chicago Marathon this month (Oct.). Tim, our son-in-law, a hematologist, ran for a leukemia/lymphoma research organization. He also ran for YOU as a symbolic gesture of support for the good race you have run, Nate. We sponsored Tim by donating cash we collected from creative ways to save. We hope you will accept this gift with all our love behind it. There were thousands who read the little banner on his back and prayed for you that day. And we are still cheering you on!”
Lynn enclosed a photo of her son-in-law’s running shirt with Nate’s name on it, and we passed it around the room. Also enclosed was a check for $328, an incredibly important gift because of what it represented. Just at the time when the head of our family passed away, another family was saying how important his life had been to them. The letter was also sprinkled with happy memories of Nate, along with a description of their high regard for him.
On first glance, it seems like the letter had arrived too late. After all, it was addressed to Nate, and he died an hour after it arrived into our home. He was unable to open it or read it.
In hindsight, however, I believe the letter had a much loftier purpose by surfacing when it did. Exactly at the time Nate finished running his earthly race, we read from a letter describing that very image in reference to him. It was as if God put an exclamation point behind Nate’s life. After all, the race verses were his favorite in all of the Bible.
In addition to that, Lynn’s letter gave us the boost we needed at the lowest moment our family has ever experienced. I don’t doubt that God carefully orchestrated the whole thing. Just after Nate “disappeared” and we were struggling to focus on the truth of the unseen rather than the gaunt, cancer-ravaged reality we were looking at, Lynn’s letter provided visible evidence of a race well run. Her words highlighted Nate’s specific race and made us grateful he had crossed God’s finish line.
“We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)
“Let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” (Hebrews 12:1b)
I think I can speak for many others when I say that you should feel the freedom to both speak and write about Nate as often as you desire for as long as you wish. You continue to encourage me in my faith. Thank you for taking the time and energy to pour out your thoughts and feelings in your writing. It honors Nate, but most importantly brings glory to God and points us all back to His eternal and unfailing promises.
A day will come when God puts a “blog” in your heart that doesn’t deal exclusively with Nate, but it might be a long time. Right now that’s in the forefront of your mind and life. You shared life together very sweetly for a long time. Losing Nate left a big hole (or a gaping wound.) Don’t worry about what to write. Just follow the Holy Spirit’s leading! Your words are blessing many people!
I’ve seen many patient’s die from a nursing point of view, but you have described the family’s experience and so many will be blessed by your insights. It is so healthy for you to share your grief, and as you tie it in with what the Lord has taught you, we are all learning from your feelings.
Every day I open my email hoping to find notice that you have posted a new entry. Even though I often read through tears, I am blessed by what you share and my faith grows as I see what God can do with a life devoted to Him. Thank you for writing…on any topic your heart desires!
I couldn’t put it better than the last comment. Your writing is both moving and a real inspiration for me to keep pressing into God.
I echo the words expressed above: Keep writing about Nate for as long as you need/want to. We are all so blessed by your writing and reminded daily of the things that matter in life. Personally, your blog has become part of my morning devotional and I would miss it a lot if you stopped writing! I agree with the sentiment that while your writing is therapeutic for you and a blessing to us, it is the way it glorifies the Father that matters most. I love hearing about Nate’s life and your experiences at the end of his earthly life.
“You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?” – Psalm 56:8
Dear Margaret,
This is how highly our Heavenly Father regards our tears of grief and pain. I think our modern culture has in many ways forgotten to honor the sacred and vital act of grieving. We think we should be “over it” as quickly as we change the channel on the television, but that’s not how God sees it. He made us. He knows that we need time to grieve, to mourn, to cry, to remember, to talk, and to have others gather around us to share in our grief and honor it. He did not put a time limit on it. In fact He considers our tears so holy that He saves them, not willing to let one be wasted!
Since ancient times people have acknowledged that mourning and healing take time: forty days of fasting in biblical times, wearing white for a year in parts of Asia, wearing a black band around the arm or black clothing in European and American traditions. Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head, but they all tell us that the time for remembrance and healing is long.
To me, one of the most special traditions is one that dates all the way back to biblical days, was also practiced in Victorian times and is seeing a revival in memorial gifts now: tear bottles. Little glass bottles given to those who were grieving the loss of a loved one. They were used to literally collect the tears that were shed and saved. The corks had a narrow opening that allowed the tears to slowly evaporate. Once the bottle was empty the time of official mourning was considered to be over, but the bottles were saved forever as a memorial of that loved one. (http://www.tearbottle.com/Tear_Bottles_Past.html)
Think of that! God holds every tear you’ve shed since the day you sat in that doctor’s office next to Nate and heard those heavy words. He alone knows how many they are and He alone knows how long it will take for them to dry away. Trust Him and don’t listen to that nagging voice of condemnation that tells you to “let it go, already.” That’s not a voice that has any good for you in mind. There is a season for everything. This is your season to remember your Nate while your Father holds you close and gathers your tears, while your friends listen with love in their hearts as you recount your sacred memories of him. Speak all the words you have to speak of him. We’re listening.
I echo all the comments left today. We love your heart Margaret. Your “blogs” remind us of God’s sovereignty, the race we all run for His Glory. Your words are a blessing and are teaching us to look to Him for our daily sustenance. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart lean not on your own understanding but in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5&6
Dear Margaret –
Thank you so much for sharing your heart with all of us. You are blazing a trail which, while incredibly difficult for you, will have its effect for a very long time and will be so helpful to others who may have to walk that trail sometime. We haven’t been in touch with you and Nate for so long, and your blog has made it possible for us to get reacquainted with all of you and to get to know you better. Your blog is a precious gift, Margaret. Please continue to share whatever is on your heart for a long as you desire. It is a blessing and a help.
Never stop sharing about Nate. It’s taking me a long time to get over his death. I probably never will completely.
Nate always meant a lot to me, but I guess I never really knew how much. He’s in my heart so I’ll never forget him.
Over decades as a pastor’s wife I’ve seen that people who lose a loved one NEED people to talk about that loved one. Conversly people try their hardest NOT to talk about that one because it produces tears. But when part of our lives is ripped away we don’t want people to forget them..,.we don’t want to forget them … and the tears are healing tears. So keep recording your thoughts and feelings as long as you want. Only those who are able to bear that burden with you need read. You’ve always been a kind compassionate person but you will now be able to empathize in ways you never imagined before. Love, hugs and prayers
I still talk about my daughter frequently, stillborn at 6 1/2 months of pregnancy, even though it’s been over 13 years since her death. And she was just a baby, not someone I spent many years with. Most of us have had losses, too, which means that we understand just how much it helps to talk (or write) about it.
I agree with my sister’s comment – keep writing about Nate as much as you want for as long as you want. And we’ll all continue to read 🙂
Echo, echo, echo..alllll the above. You share your heart so beautifully and vividly, Margaret…I’ve cried right along with you because I’m there in spirit…those who love the Lord, are all one family, one spirit…keep talking, keep writing..we’re blessed.
Dear Margaret, Keep on writing! You do it so beautifully, and you recognize that it’s therapeutic for you to do so. It’s also a blessing to us who are privileged to read it. You have much to say and your sharing of this difficult journey continues to touch and inspire my heart. You are in my prayers.