Today, as I write and post this, my wife Barbara has been in her Heavenly home for three months. In that time, I have experienced many emotions, shed many tears, questioned much, but learned much, also. I want to share a few of the things I’ve learned – some surprising and some not so surprising. My hope and prayer is that my sharing will help someone else in a similar situation.
There are a handful of things that haven’t surprised me in the sense that they are true, but rather to the extent to which they are so. The first of which, and the one I am the most grateful for, is that God has shown Himself to be with me every step of the way. I’ve said this before in this space, and to anyone who will listen: I have no idea how people journey through grief without a strong faith in God and knowledge of His sovereignty. Without this, and the knowledge that I will indeed see Barbara again in the future, I don’t believe I would be surviving any of this. This is more important than any words I know how to put together.
Another thing I’ve learned that really doesn’t surprise me, is the importance of having people close to you and “letting them in”. It doesn’t have to be a lot of people and probably shouldn’t be. Whether that pool of folks comes from your family, your church, your friends and neighbors, wherever, you need to have at least a few that know pretty much all that’s going on with you. You need that accountability. And odds are, they will need it from you to some degree, as well. (For those reading this in that circle of mine – thank you, really, from the bottom of my heart.)
A few things that have surprised me…
The passing of time is an enigma to me. On the one hand, the last three months have been an excruciating long period of time. When I think about the last time I held my wife’s hand, it seems like a lifetime ago. But on the other hand, I ask myself how three months could have passed so quickly? And that scares me a bit. I don’t want to forget things. I don’t want to lose memories. And there are still things I know I need to do, that I can’t seem to make myself do. Those I trust tell me that there is no timetable for all of this, but I worry I’m going to blink again and another three, six or twelve months are going to zoom past. One friend told me to look at every day that passes as a day closer to when I’ll see Barbara again, as opposed to one more day since I last saw her. I liked that, so I’ve adopted it. It helps.
Music plays a critical part in my healing. All different genres. Barbara and I learned early on in our courting that we shared a love for all different kinds of music. I think that’s part of why it helps. There are wonderful memories attached. Worship music and classical are my main go-tos, although pretty much everything is in play. (Except for some of the darker stuff I used to listen to occasionally – my spirit has no need for anything that will foster depression!)
I have a renewed appreciation for the things that Barbara enjoyed. It’s as if doing these things brings her closer. Like nature and the outdoors. I take a lot more walks for pleasure, not just exercise, these days. Walks without earbuds so I can hear the birds and the wind in the trees. So I can focus on what I’m looking at and not whoever is speaking in my ear. This also creates a great environment to hear from God. (Which, I know, is precisely why she loved it so much.)
A final thing I’ll share is that I want to be around people that knew Barbara well, and that loved, and were loved by, her. I just want to talk about her. And so do they. One of my favorite new pastimes is sitting with a friend over coffee and just sharing stories. It’s one of the ways her memory and legacy lives on – and will continue to – far into the future.
Thank you for continuing to read these posts about my journey. A big part of me doesn’t like the idea of sharing like this. But, if it’s helpful to at least one other person, then it’s worth it. Part of the impact Barbara made – and is still making – in this world was/is due to the fact that she was willing to share her trials in the hopes it would help others avoid them. One of the many things I learned from Barbara was that sometimes you need to get over yourself and put others first.
As Albert Einstein is quoted as saying, “Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.”
I pray this blessed and encouraged you. If you know someone else for whom it may do the same, please pass it on to them.
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