Staying Sane

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I remember the day Dad died. I’d never seen anyone die before, and it was traumatic. He’d fallen backwards onto concrete, breaking his pelvis in 13 pieces. Although he was 92 and ought not to have been immobilized, there was no medical choice. Nothing was going to put his pelvis back together except traction and time, although the doctor knew other health issues would arise if Dad lay still in a bed too long.

Two weeks later, still in traction, he began battling the consequences of being made to lie still: blood clots, mini-heart attacks, bed sores, threats of stroke. Eventually his kidneys failed, his lungs filled with fluid and as he died, he gasped for air, unconscious but struggling to breathe. When this happened, I looked away. It was awful to see him gasp in a choking way, even though it lasted only a few seconds. I panicked and cried, “What’s he doing?” In short, I acted badly.

After we learned of Nate’s terminal cancer, I thought back to Dad’s death scene. I told myself, “I’ve got to do better than that. I want to be Nate’s partner in suffering if I can, and I want to stay focused on him and his needs, all the way to the end.”

None of us knew what to expect, not on any one day and certainly not in those final moments, whenever they would come. But I trusted God to strengthen us and bring understanding as we needed it. I sometimes woke during the night trying to picture the end, craving God’s preparation for what would happen and the role I would need to fulfill. I knew one thing for sure; I didn’t want to turn away from my husband the way I’d turned away from my dad.

As I prayed about the unknowns of my assignment, God seemed to impress on me that if I committed my mind to his keeping, everything else would be ok. The physical part would work itself out day by day, and I knew the emotional stuff would be accompanied by tears and sadness. But if my mind was submitted to God, I knew I could partner with Nate, no matter what.

Scripture kept me calm. The verse that helped most was Romans 12:2.”Be transformed by the renewing of your mind so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.”

I knew if I asked God to transform me by renewing my mind every day, I would be ready for whatever came. Another verse I prayed back to God countless times was Philippians 1:7. It said that if I called out to God, letting him know what I needed, acknowledging the blessings while I was in the struggles, his peace would keep my mind through Christ Jesus. I believed that meant he would keep me from being overwhelmed or unable to cope. He would keep me sane.

Often during those six weeks, along with the wake and funeral days that followed, I felt my mind tip-toeing around the edge of panic. But when that happened, I could almost feel God tapping me on the shoulder as if to say, “Remember what I told you. Claim the words again for your mind. If you stay focused on me, you’ll be filled with peace.”

Verse Plaque 2

God kept his word and kept me sane.

”Know the God of your father, and serve him with a whole heart and a willing mind; for the Lord searches all hearts, and understands every intent of the thoughts. If you seek Him, He will let you find Him.” (1 Chronicles 28:9)

Remembering the good… and the bad.

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Tick tock, tick tock, time is passing. In one sense that’s good. My widow friends tell me time will be a healing instrument. Today I view it as my enemy, because it’s dragging me away from the living, breathing Nate. Many times every day I yearn to look back, because when I do, there’s a holding on to him for a bit longer.

At the moment of death one month ago, Nate and I were physically touching. I sat close as those wispy last breaths moved from his mouth into the room and then dissipated. While the kids and I looked back and forth from his face to his chest searching for any tiny movement that might indicate he was still living, I continued to stroke his arm and hold his hand. His skin slowly grew cold and his fingers became stiff in mine as death shouted, “I won! I took him!”

I stayed in literal touch with Nate’s body for a few more minutes, even though I knew it was foolish. He couldn’t feel my tender caresses. We’d all known death was close and saw it hovering at the edges of his face, ready to pounce. But until it actually did, he was still a present husband and father. He was still ours. Once he died, he belonged not to us but to eternity. And to Christ.

Nurse Gina, Sky, Nate, me

When Nate was living a human life like the rest of us still are, he belonged to Christ then, too, but we somehow shared him. After he died, we no longer had our share. He was only ours in used-to-be. This was definitely second best, but I’ve tried to remind myself today, on the one month anniversary, that second best is still high on the list.

One big blessing is our many happy memories and 196 photo albums that prove them true. My sister and I have said, “Looking at the old photos, you’d think life was nothing but parties and vacations.” Of course we know better. Neither of us took pictures of children having temper tantrums in the store or doctors sewing stitches in the emergency room. Our recollections of Nate are much like the photo albums. Gradually memories of stress, failure or disappointment, even just ordinary moments, will fade like old photographs left in the sun. Even now, during the first month, we talk only of the positives.

In one sense, wicked death did have its way and “took him” on that November evening. But the full truth is that death was merely the gateway into a different (and much better) life. Does a resident of heaven make new memories? If he does, then we’re not part of them. Maybe, because heavenly living is out of time and space, we’ll be able to fit into those memories when we get there, as if we’d always been there, too.

In the mean time, our selective memory of Nate’s past is protective and caring, and we’ll try to keep him from moving from humanity to near-divinity. Could memories of our regular husband and father morph into something akin to perfection? I hope not. I long to remember the real man, not a fictional version. Of course it’s good to be positive, but we also know God uses the hard stuff of life, the stuff not in the photo albums, the stuff we shy away from remembering, to produce what’s best and most valuable in every life. So if we find ourselves remembering any bad days, that’s good, too!

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.” (2 Corinthians 4:8-10)

Christmas is coming.

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Do we decorate for Christmas this year? I’m not sure. Decking the halls doesn’t seem appropriate, because bringing out brightly colored ornaments doesn’t fit well with grieving.Santa Nate, best

Yet I see the lights of the season and find them comforting. How many Decembers have Nate and I sat near the Christmas tree late at night, talking in the warm glow of the colored lights? I can feel his arm around me even now as I remember, and can almost taste the spiced tea we used to drink with our stocking feet up on the coffee table at the end of a busy day.

Now I’m someplace new for the holidays, a different house with a different living room, and no specific spot where the Christmas tree “always goes.” Before we moved earlier in the year, we annually committed decorations gluttony. Our small cottage couldn’t handle it all, so I gave away half. Now I look at the 13 boxes left and realize their presence in the house is creating a dilemma.

While running errands yesterday, I pulled into a nursery displaying 100 Christmas trees set in neat rows. As I stood in the middle of that man-made pine forest, I couldn’t muster up even a smidgen of Christmas spirit. But this afternoon a realtor friend stopped by to see how I was doing. During our conversation he mentioned a neighbor of his, “out in the country,” who sells Christmas trees. “You have to cut your own, but if you choose an imperfect one, she’ll discount the price.” Should we buy one?

As one of my widow friends counseled, “Many times in the next weeks you’ll come to a decision point. Ask yourself, ‘What would Nate do?’ It’ll help you decide.” We’ve already experienced this. After Nate died, our seven children and two in-law kids gathered to ask, “What happens next?” It was a question with several answers due to our recent move. Which town? Which cemetery? Which funeral home? Or a church? A memorial service? A funeral? A private or public burial? During the discussion, every question was quickly answered by asking another one: “What would Papa want?” The rest was easy.

So here we are at the holidays with a new set of questions, and God keeps bringing to mind one particular Bible story. King David’s baby boy was terminally ill, and he couldn’t help his little guy, despite having power and riches. David was beside himself with grief. He wouldn’t eat or bathe, wouldn’t change his clothes or leave the house, slept on the ground, wept continually and begged God to let his baby get well. But the baby died.

Afterward, David accepted the death as God’s will, knowing his son was healed after he died. The king got up, washed, ate and was emotionally strengthened enough to comfort others who were still mourning. I think God put this story into my head to remind me again that just like David’s child, it was God’s will Nate not recover from the cancer, and it was his will he go to heaven to receive his healing. The Lord has also reminded me of the many blessings surrounding Nate’s life and even his death. The cancer concluded in a way we wouldn’t have chosen, but because we continually committed Nate to God’s care and keeping, we know God’s choice, which was Nate’s death, was for the best.

Christmas card pic 1990

So, about the decorations, we don’t even need to ask, “What would Nate do?” We’ll simply rejoice in the birth of Christ, maybe more so this year than ever before. After all, he’s the One who opened heaven so Nate could enter in. And if decorations add joy to the season, then we will decorate.

“’Is the child dead?’ [David] asked. ‘Yes,’ they replied, ‘he is dead.’ David got up from the ground. After he had washed, put on lotions and changed his clothes, he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped. Then he went to his own house, and at his request they served him food, and he ate. ‘While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again’?” (2 Samuel 12:20, 22-23)

“On those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned… For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given. He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:2, 6)