After the death of a husband, how long does it take to heal? When is grieving finished?
I’ve looked back over recent weeks of blog posts and was surprised to realize not every one of them has been about Nate. At first I was appalled to see this, but after thinking it through, I think it’s as a sign of God’s kind mending of a broken heart. That’s not to say I don’t think about Nate daily, sometimes hourly. But the wrenching sadness happens less and less.
C. S. Lewis published a small book of journal entries penned during deep sorrow over losing his wife to cancer. A Grief Observed was so personal, he wouldn’t allow his name on the cover but instead ghost-published as N. W. Clerk. After Lewis died several years later, his stepson republished it with his true identity.
Lewis went through raw grief, doubting God’s love and availability to him, wondering whether there was an afterlife at all. But by the end of the book, his relationship with the Lord had been restored, and his grief was beginning to heal. In my own progress toward healing, I can relate well to this quote from A Grief Observed:
“There was no sudden, striking emotion. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight when you first notice them, they have already been going on for a long time.”
Today I was strongly encouraged by realizing my healing has already been going on for a long time. It’s not that I’m “finished”. I’ll still experience sad moments and occasional breakdowns, but just as Lewis learned, raw emotion mellows, and we connect with our spouses in a new way. Instead of labeling Nate as “missing”, as having left a big, empty hole in our family, I think of him as our larger-than-life husband and father, the lively, loyal head of our family who was full of personality and loved each of us wholeheartedly.
As one of our kids said somewhere during this last year, “Papa was a legend.” He wasn’t the kind of legend that made the cover of TIME, but a Nyman-legend to be sure. Grief has a way of wrapping what’s good with a negative shroud, but as time passes and we heal, the layers peel away, and the positives come shining through.
God has helped me see more and more of these positives as the months have passed, and I credit him with every bit of my healing. He’s been my constant companion, my shield from despair and, as the biblical David put it, “the lifter of my head.”
Had we known Nate would die at 64, leaving us after only 42 days of warning, we’d have still chosen him for our husband and father. Grieving may not be finished, but he will always be our main man, the one we wanted then, the one we still love now, and the one for whom we thank God.
“You, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the One who lifts my head. I was crying to the Lord with my voice, and he answered me.” (Psalm 3:3-4)
What an amazing post! Thank you so much for sharing it. I still sometimes feel like it’s not right to move past grief, like that might be a betrayal, but I know those feelings don’t come from God. He wants to heal us and fill us with hope. Love you Mom. See you soon!
Than-you.What else can I say?Right now I feel like I will never get over this,but in my head I know that this will change.I agree with Linni,I feel like I shouldn’t have a good time,somehow this is wrong.Again,I know better,but the heart takes over at time like this.Thanks for taking my hand as we walk this journey.
Hugs,Ruth
How beautifully the Lord does His work!
Dear Margaret, Whatever you do, don’t let anyone put a limit on your grief and be sure to be handling it in a healthy way (getting help if it is all consuming now). You will always think of him and sometimes you’ll be able to talk about him without crying – and sometimes, not, even many, many years later. Just don’t do this one thing – don’t label yourself as “The Widow Margaret”. I lost a child and for 18 years, I was the “woman who lost a child” and I allowed that label to give me the right to being, well, for a better word at this moment, a wimp about life. On what would have been her 18th birthday, the Holy Spirit gave me the okay to let that go and to start living more fully again. 18 years is a long time to live in a state of self-pity and entitlement to bowing out of things if I wanted to. One day at a time, my dear, and keep looking for the sunshine (good things) and bask in it whenever it comes and it will come more and more and more. God Bless!
I know I’ve said this before, Margaret, but I thank you again for your transparency. God bless you.
You’re doing so well, you sweet thing! Have a great Christmas with your family. Even tummy flu is better with them! Hugs to all.
I so totally agree with all the above – especially Wendy. God is SO merciful in allowing us to heal at our own pace – all the while as we allow His Holy Spirit to wash over us, through us and heal from deep within…we come to realize it began the moment our loved one left…and our acceptance of it comes when we’re ready to acknowledge it. A grateful heart and verbal expression of thanksgiving and praise to the giver of life is the best sign of wholesomeness. I think you’re doing quite well, my dear. God bless, have a wonderful Christmas with all your children and GRANDS…I KNOW the coming year will be better for you all…and yes, you will all have your moments.
Love ya dearly.
Having witnessed innumerable death events, to observe the heart repair of the Lord is a profound reflection of our Savior. Those spouses and families with a “lifter of head” are beautiful indeed. Your ministry continues immeasurably. May you persevere in mending (restoring)the family net. Blessings on you as you engage in real “networking” this holiday season
Thank you for letting us watch as the God of all comfort met you in your time of need. He does, indeed, give special care for the widow and it lifts MY spirits to know He is lifting YOUR spirits. Bless you and your wonderful family with a special Christmas season.
God bless you for this beautiful blog today. It was just what I needed to read!