August 27, 2014
I loved the Jungle Book as a child. Baloo sang a song titled, the bare necessities. The lyrics of that song, "look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities..." came to mind when I was trying to figure out a title for a blog about wedding vows.
This has been a summer filled with weddings it seems. Just this past weekend, I attended yet another bridal shower. And today, was one of those heart to hearts with a friend over salads and sweet tea about life, love and everything in between. Lastly...just moments ago, my facebook newsfeed had an anniversary post commenting how 25 years of marriage had tested their wedding vows.
The last resonated within me... on several levels.
Mike and I had gotten married 25 years ago this past March. And marriage definitely requires vows because the testing of vows is pretty much a given. Which got me to reflecting how the traditional vows are erased from most marriage ceremonies today. The old vows are replaced by the write your own. Sweet, mushy, heartfelt. And totally useless (really...!) vows.
I truly believe it is the traditional vow that helps ensure success in marriage. Not that romance isn't adorable. Especially within a marriage ceremony. And handwritten vows are romantic! I know. Firsthand actually. Mike and I wrote our own vows. This was back in 1989 when doing so was still "relatively" cutting edge :). I can't recall his to me. Nor mine to him either....well a teeny part of mine I do remember. I know for sure I emphasized I actually would "obey"...(it drew a huge laugh from our wedding guests who knew my bullheaded nature...and hence, the reason I actually included it within my "own" vows).
But...to really know for sure just what we said in our "personal vows" , means I need to first ..find, then...dust off our wedding video and finally, plug it into a VHS player! Which I cannot bring myself to do...maybe not for years. Waaaay tooooo painful would that be. But....I would bet that our heartfelt, handwritten personal vows that we made to one another would surprise and warm my heart. And probably also be laughable, ironic or just plain...sad. I also could be sure each was probably broken ( at least once) if not repeatedly. Well....Except for mine on the "obey" thing ! ;). LoL.
More than likely, they were among the frivolous ..."I promise to never go to bed mad at you". or...."I promise to always smile when you come in the door" or ".....hold your hand even when I'm angry" - kinds of vows. Someday maybe...I'll play the video if my VHS player still exists...and actually find out.
What I do know (now) is that they should contain at least a dollup of wisdom. For example...."I promise to pay for a babysitter even when the cost of a meal + babysitter means we order the cheapest appetizer on the menu, no entree, and smilingly request "just water" at least once a month to allow us non-kid-included-date-night regularly!
But Mike and I were not completely clueless. We did include the old well-worn vows in our marriage ceremony....right after our handmade ones :). And I admit, it felt like the ones we wrote to one another....were more promises than actual "VOWS". This may have been because the old-fashioned, traditional vows were the "final" ones said. And.... we had to do the "repeat after me" with them as well! So they felt very vow-like and we really did say and mean them as "vows" not as promises. Try it...have a minister ask you if "you take this man/woman....to love, honor and cherish..for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, till death do you part?" and tell me you are not aware of the vow-ness of it? Handwritten vows...are more like the shadow of a traditional vow. Vows are glue. And glue is needed in marriage. Because marriage is, in a nutshell, wonderful...and hard. Heartwarmingly joy-filled...and hard. Humorous...and hard. Very very very...hard, and wonderful. Marriage was the hardest thing (second only to parenting) that I've ever done. And the most fulfilling. Which means.....Vows...matter. Yet today...in marriages, it doesn't seem that the seriousness of a VOW versus a "promise" is grasped much. So the traditional vow is omitted entirely and the handwritten "promises" disguised as vows now take the stage in many ceremonies.
And the result.....well. It's pretty obvious. Just think about the feelings of love in those new vows. For myself....I absolutely adored the rose-colored glasses phase. I can still reflect back on those years and they literally will make me smile. Such fun it was! So cool! Remembering how it felt to have Mike would touch my hand ....and electricity would shoot right through me! It was awesome. I was so IN love. All the moments of life crammed with thoughts of Mike. Ahhhhhhhhh.
The feeling lasted years. I loved life and the view from my rose-colored glasses was phenomenal. The fading from deep rose to rose to kinda rosey ...to pink...and then....kinda pinkish...and so on was not something that happens BAM! Rose colored glasses don't just fall off one day. Nope. I was at home, doing my usual marriage & work & caring for the kids life...and wearing my palish-pink glasses when the thought came. And this thought or better...realization...actually caught me a bit offguard. Maybe that's why I remember it so well. Sitting in my home on west 2nd street, I was thinking about my marriage and suddenly recognized I had to "decide" to love Mike. Not rely on feeling it. But decide to actively love. A decision. I don't recall the Whys and Whats of my life at that time that made me realize.. I had to make loving Mike a decision and not just a feeling. And so...I decided "to decide" to love Mike.... for my entire life. An active verb vs a passive one. I remember reflecting about our vows...and it was the traditional ones that came to mind. Even then...I couldn't really remember the handwritten ones that we'd actually come up with! Other than, naturally, the "obey" part of mine...probably because I still wrestled with that. :). But the traditional vows were always easy to recall. And so...I decided. To love. And...subsequently... the lenses of my glasses changed. Still colored .....but with depth. And as years passed...definitely richer and more varied hues.
Several years later, Mike and Iwere at a hotel and there was a wedding going on beneath our window on the hotel lawn. We listened in on their ceremony. I heard the couple excitedly recite their handmade "vows". Sweet! And I waited for the traditional ones. Only to hear the minister "now pronouce (them) man and wife". I was really saddened. Mike and I sat and really talked about it. I think the fact they omitted the traditional vows made such an impression upon me that day because
the "decision to love" is best found within those "old traditional" vows. The decision to love is actually in the "read between the lines" of the traditional vows. And...most probably why arranged marriages have been historically so successful. Unlike non-arranged marriages, where the start of it is based upon the feelings of love. Hence the dismayed surprise when the feeling fades. Arranged marriages make the decision to love/feel love/decide TO love at the very start. With the decision to love, the lenses you wear when you view your mate truly do transform. You wear glasses that allow you to see this nuanced rainbow of colors showing the good, bad, ugly and....the good...and more good...and, again, good. This latter focus always on the good requires some lens adjustments...like bifocals! :). You actively choose what part of the lens to look through. Yet you also find God involved. For when you do that...the rest of the lens continues to change to deeper and rosier hues. Every marriage union eventually requires each member recognize and make "a decision" to love. One not based upon feelings. Either at the start like an arranged marriage...or in the middle. When they don't both do so...divorce results.
Thus...along comes this other verb... "persevere". And.... with persevering...comes the vows! Essentially then...you come full circle. That is marriage. Love...decision....perseverence...Increased love...continued decision....more perseverence (repeat).
Marriage perseveres through.... better and worse, financial stability and mounting debts/circling drains (eg: richer and poorer :), Through sickness and good health. Until....at the very end.....the one vow that is left, is the one vow that shows you made it through all the others...... Till death do us part.
So I hope my girls, when they get married, include the old traditional vows. And have a simple gold band as their wedding rings. The latter....for alot of extra not yet mentioned reasons!
Society today puts out this temptation to have alot of bling on your rings. It's indiscriminate..bling both the engagement and the wedding ring! But ...not always! It used to be that the wedding ring was always just a band of gold. And with a simple band of gold (yep...think back to the song from the 60's or early 70's. I really liked that song!)....the vow pretty much slaps you in the face when you look at it. But nowadays.... how much bling is in a ring has become equated with "how deep is his love" ....or at the very least, his pocketbook ;).
Yet, when the wedding ring is all bling....the vow is hidden. I believe the vow is what God intended us to look at daily. Heaven knows how many times I see my fingers each day. And therefore the ring upon my left one. Think about it. God had the Israelites put up altars whenever HE , in a sense, came through for them against all odds. The altars were meant to be constant reminders to the israelites to "persevere" ... To remind them, HE had come through and...so they could trust HE would come through. Reminders are very important to God. He knows they're essential to us weak, forgetful humans. We require upfront and upclose reminders! A wedding ring was meant to serve as a reminder of THE vow YOU made. Not a promise. Not a conversation. But a vow. Vows are like writings upon iron tablets. Promises are written on rosepetals. When I look at a gold band, ...I hear in my head.... "I promise to love, honor and cherish, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health...till death do us part". Those are vows. Vows with iron. Vows that get you through marriage. Vows that require the decision to love, not just the feeling of love...to be within a marriage relationship. While sweet...really....sooooooo sweeet! The vows nowadays such as ...."I will always hold your hand even when I'm angry" are as flimsy as muslim is to iron. And marriage requires iron to survive...it's hard.
When I reflect back on my 25 years of marriage to Mike, and how terribly much I miss him since he died....Satan hurls at me memories when we angrily (me mostly....Mike more rarely, though sainthood-worthyness was neither of us ) threw out hurtful words at each other. Even worse is the memory of times when the word, divorce, was, sadly....thrown into a heated argument. True, I comfort myself that I used it much like one would use ice cold water upon someones head...as a shock technique. If Mike had ever turned my technique back upon myself ...and said divorce should be considered....I know my world would've dissolved into shattered shards of glass. And....in a weird way, knowing Mike wouldn't do so was the reason I could hurl that most hurtful of all words at him. Because I KNEW Mikes attitude toward our wedding VOWS. I knew and he knew I knew. And he knew I felt the same. We both respected and acknowledged we were bound not by promises...but by Vows. To God. And to each other. We knew our marriage would be TDDUP. FB&FW, IS&IH, FR&FP. Even if we didn't "like it". And all this is not to say hurling hurtful words...and especially that most hurtful of all words is ever right! The word divorce should be struck from all arguments between those united with Vows before GOD. But my point is this...Marriage is hard. Mountaintops and valleys. Persevere in a valley and you WILL end up together and holding hands...on a mountain top. But...there will also be another valley...and another mountaintop ahead. And so on. That is the journey of marriage. That is what the vows are all about. When you're in a valley...you need to decide to love and decide to persevere....and the vows you will do so are evident in a gold band upon your finger. And the vow before God brings HIM into the journey. Which means....quite simply...that you WILL find the mountaintop. GOD is in control of your journey.
And the vows I said 25 years ago still are serving me even now. Reflecting upon them and the fact that Mike and I fulfilled each one.... helps to mute the raw hurt that is my heart. A deep consolation that penetrates to my very core. Its amazing that the vows from 25 years ago being fulfilled have this sweetness that is their gift to me now....when I am without Mike.
One of my most precious and tender memories I have of Mike during his illness took place a few weeks before he died. He'd lost so much weight his wedding ring was falling off his finger. Mike had never removed it...not even once in all the years we'd been married. We were talking about whether to tie yarn onto it or tape to make it fit and I reminded him that I had had his ring engraved on the inside and did he remember that ...and what it had said. Mike did remember it had been engraved but neither of us were 100% sure what I'd had written. So he took it off and we peered at the inscription. The irony was crushing. Besottedly wearing my rose-colored glasses, I had engraved what I considered to be a truly romantic thought inside Mikes ring. I used our nicknames. Mike sat in the recliner, hair pretty much gone, gauntness where strength had always reigned supreme, young ...so darn young....and I perched on the arm of the recliner while we both put on reading glasses and used a magnifying glass to read the inscription which said, "Mr. Man - TDDUP - Weasal". Despite the overwhelming irony...which brought tears. We also smiled through them and talked about how it was that we had fulfilled each of our vows. Each one. To the last...to the TDDUP. THAT moment....is etched permanently in my mind and heart.
So Mikes plain, bent up, simple gold band wedding ring and the fact we'd fulfilled the traditional vows brings to me....11 months, two days, and 43 minutes since Mike died.... a feeling of gratitude. Gratefulness toward God. That we did, with His help and grace, persevere and fulfill those vows. There's this feeling of thankfulness that actually wells up inside of me when I reflect upon it....that we did fulfill them. Each one. So...on my personal journey, I discovered that there's two emotions that result from vow fulfillment. Gratitude and thankfulness. Both towards our Maker. Who ultimately is the one who gets you through marriage....and why I believe He wants you to be equally yoked so that He may do so.
Vows in marriage are like a strong and lasting wind. Hurtful words and arguments and the parts of marriage that are tough....are like leaves that break off trees and swirl about briefly ...and then are swept from view by the wind which blows sometimes gently....sometimes fiercely...but is always in motion.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Meanderings....
August 21, 2014
Right now...feeling pretty okay. Planning to jump out of a plane the day before Mikes' 55th birthday in a couple weeks. (would've jumped ON his bday but the plane people won't fly that day). Had tried to do this before...on our Silver Anniversary in March. March 4th. This year. I gathered friends together and we drove out, excited I was! But the cloud cover was "too dense" per the plane people and so they wouldn't let me do it. So....I waited and figured I'd do it for Mikes Birthday to get my mind off it. Yet...about a week ago...I was thinking, maybe I shouldn't. I was feeling actually a bit fearful of doing it. Before, in March...I think I was so depressed and sad that there was no fear involved in the entire idea of jumping out of a plane. So I must be much less depressed. Maybe even thinking of my life ahead as something I'm interested in continuing :)....because it was scary to me and I thought....should I cancel. Will that be okay. What do I say to friends knowing I planned to jump...that I was now scared to? But then...this morning, when I thought about the jump ahead...I was not really fearful "much" (still a little bit just not as bad as last week). And I think the jump is much more symbolic for me. It will be starting out anew...afresh. Heading into the next chapter, not knowing what is in it, where it will lead, and if I will end up as a crash and burn and in more pain or flying high and soaring above life and feeling as airy and light as a bird. I'm gonna bring a bit of Mike and let him soar with me. (Haven't told the plane people of that plan :). So there you go. I think it is a good sign that I am a bit fearful now of maybe dying. It means that I must've moved into a place beyond the one I was in back in March where I really didn't care if that happened other than that it would be a problem for the girls as they still "need me". So....the end of my meandering musings for today.
Right now...feeling pretty okay. Planning to jump out of a plane the day before Mikes' 55th birthday in a couple weeks. (would've jumped ON his bday but the plane people won't fly that day). Had tried to do this before...on our Silver Anniversary in March. March 4th. This year. I gathered friends together and we drove out, excited I was! But the cloud cover was "too dense" per the plane people and so they wouldn't let me do it. So....I waited and figured I'd do it for Mikes Birthday to get my mind off it. Yet...about a week ago...I was thinking, maybe I shouldn't. I was feeling actually a bit fearful of doing it. Before, in March...I think I was so depressed and sad that there was no fear involved in the entire idea of jumping out of a plane. So I must be much less depressed. Maybe even thinking of my life ahead as something I'm interested in continuing :)....because it was scary to me and I thought....should I cancel. Will that be okay. What do I say to friends knowing I planned to jump...that I was now scared to? But then...this morning, when I thought about the jump ahead...I was not really fearful "much" (still a little bit just not as bad as last week). And I think the jump is much more symbolic for me. It will be starting out anew...afresh. Heading into the next chapter, not knowing what is in it, where it will lead, and if I will end up as a crash and burn and in more pain or flying high and soaring above life and feeling as airy and light as a bird. I'm gonna bring a bit of Mike and let him soar with me. (Haven't told the plane people of that plan :). So there you go. I think it is a good sign that I am a bit fearful now of maybe dying. It means that I must've moved into a place beyond the one I was in back in March where I really didn't care if that happened other than that it would be a problem for the girls as they still "need me". So....the end of my meandering musings for today.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
It's awful
August 12, 2014
Made up this song today as I was putting clean sheets and pillowcases on my bed this morning...
"It's awful, just awful. So very painful. Everyone will ask me everyday...How are You? Howya doin? Are you doing okay? I smile. I saaaaaaay.... "I'm fine".
But really...It's awful. It's horrible. I miss him so. It is sooooo paaaaaainful. But do you really need, for me to saaaay...It's awful, just awful? Should I honestly tell you right here and right now? Am I really to tell you and cry...here and now? Am I really to lose it, shed tears where we stand ...in the middle of a produce aisle stand? So I smile. And I say....I'm fine. Each day.
And even if you're quietly by my side with none around, and you ask with all the care that true friends feel. Still I don't really want to cry. Try to explain. Have to ....define....awful. Look it up. It's in the dictionary. Must I explain and define it for you? Because... that's what... your look... says... to do. Define it. Explain it. And that...ooooooohhhhhhh...well that.... is just more of awful, awful, awwwwwwful.
Not that the caring, of good friends.... isn't needed. And truly appreciated. For it is. ...it is. It's not that I want to have this pain...I am in... and the walk I trudge..not mentioned in my presence... but ignored!! That would be worse. Sooooo, this rock and hard place is ...my.... curse. Because ....it's awful.
I had hoped to be inspirational. Truly in my faith ....for all. To shine that the Lord...makes this grief so much less and so much betttttttttterrrrrrrr. To show to the world that He makes it not sooooo... ...awful. But it is. And He didn't. It still is...awful.
True, being close again with Jesus after weeks of feeling distanced is soooooo much better than the distancing was for me. Having all the emotional plexiglass between us break and shatter so that I feel Him hold me close...again...after weeks of not even wanting Him....makes this....easier. But it's easier...in a huge swimming pool of ... awful. Having Him, feeling Him, Wanting Him, Loving Him, Trusting Him and Forgiving Him...truly is the best it's been. Cause for months after Mike died I didn't have, or feel, or trust, forgive or want ....Him. So it's such a huge true blessing to be past that phase of pain and hurt when not just Mike, but Jesus too was what I'd lost. But even now with Jesus at my side...it still remains...awful. Somehow better. But I didn't move away....or out...of pain. Still in it ...even with Him. Painful, awful, horrible, awful, raw, angry, sad and awful pain...still remains. So while I'm not the inspirational beacon of my dreams...back when I still had my other half of my being. I can say that without Him, the grief is ....let me stop, let me find the word, the perfect word to say....oh yes...it's sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much.... awfuller! So though I fail unlike Joan of Arc to be a beacon of His grace. To inspire I probably do not. But I'm truthful. And in truth I know... the Lord IS good to Me. But still the truth remains...losing your best friend, your other half, your soul mate, your everything....is absolutely, totally, completely, and has been for the past 10 months and 18 days....awful.
So now what. Where does my song go? Backward or sideways. No forward I go. What else can I do? Paralyzed by grief...is a phrase that now I understand. But not a phrase for me!!!!!!! And yet it'd beeeee...so verrrrry easy. To fall into it, paralyze away. But, trudge away...trudge away...forward inch by inch. Some days it seems not so hard.
Then like a wave from the pacific ocean I'm suddenly swamped, tumbling round, over sharp shells and even harder ground. The grief just swallows me up and there I am....gulping for air between sobs. Shaking my head at my God. Telling Him that He was WRONG! Wrong, wrong, wrong. So verrrry verrry wrong. His decision was wrong. But it wasn't. This I know. So I deal with warring voices in my heart. Knowing intellectually that He is never wrong and He will make this life the better for me and Katie and Amie...somehow ....don't know how... without Mike. And I know Mike is happy. Lucky dog. Lucky guy. Lucky Mister. Not by MY side. Someday...again I know I'll see him. So happy will that day be. But how long. Until then, I go....thankful that my God, my Jesus still stays by me even as I hurl my hurt back at Him. That's the most inspirational that I can be....to tell you that He stays and somehow, not sure how exactly it is better than awful but it is...still awful...but somehow slightly less. So lift up this song of mine to Him and to my Mike....smile throught the tears. And say a prayer for Aunt Dorann, Vicki, Donna too. They have lost their mates. And know this awful too. Pray to Jesus help my precious Katie... and my Amie -Lu. Comfort them and ease the pain they feel. Meet their needs. And help me....to mother, guide and be ...the person, gentle/kind/and wise...that my girls still need from me for me to be. So there you go...how am I...awful, awful, awful....trudging by. Holding fast. To the Lord. Thank HIM So...that He will not let go. (end of song)
Made up this song today as I was putting clean sheets and pillowcases on my bed this morning...
"It's awful, just awful. So very painful. Everyone will ask me everyday...How are You? Howya doin? Are you doing okay? I smile. I saaaaaaay.... "I'm fine".
But really...It's awful. It's horrible. I miss him so. It is sooooo paaaaaainful. But do you really need, for me to saaaay...It's awful, just awful? Should I honestly tell you right here and right now? Am I really to tell you and cry...here and now? Am I really to lose it, shed tears where we stand ...in the middle of a produce aisle stand? So I smile. And I say....I'm fine. Each day.
And even if you're quietly by my side with none around, and you ask with all the care that true friends feel. Still I don't really want to cry. Try to explain. Have to ....define....awful. Look it up. It's in the dictionary. Must I explain and define it for you? Because... that's what... your look... says... to do. Define it. Explain it. And that...ooooooohhhhhhh...well that.... is just more of awful, awful, awwwwwwful.
Not that the caring, of good friends.... isn't needed. And truly appreciated. For it is. ...it is. It's not that I want to have this pain...I am in... and the walk I trudge..not mentioned in my presence... but ignored!! That would be worse. Sooooo, this rock and hard place is ...my.... curse. Because ....it's awful.
I had hoped to be inspirational. Truly in my faith ....for all. To shine that the Lord...makes this grief so much less and so much betttttttttterrrrrrrr. To show to the world that He makes it not sooooo... ...awful. But it is. And He didn't. It still is...awful.
True, being close again with Jesus after weeks of feeling distanced is soooooo much better than the distancing was for me. Having all the emotional plexiglass between us break and shatter so that I feel Him hold me close...again...after weeks of not even wanting Him....makes this....easier. But it's easier...in a huge swimming pool of ... awful. Having Him, feeling Him, Wanting Him, Loving Him, Trusting Him and Forgiving Him...truly is the best it's been. Cause for months after Mike died I didn't have, or feel, or trust, forgive or want ....Him. So it's such a huge true blessing to be past that phase of pain and hurt when not just Mike, but Jesus too was what I'd lost. But even now with Jesus at my side...it still remains...awful. Somehow better. But I didn't move away....or out...of pain. Still in it ...even with Him. Painful, awful, horrible, awful, raw, angry, sad and awful pain...still remains. So while I'm not the inspirational beacon of my dreams...back when I still had my other half of my being. I can say that without Him, the grief is ....let me stop, let me find the word, the perfect word to say....oh yes...it's sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much.... awfuller! So though I fail unlike Joan of Arc to be a beacon of His grace. To inspire I probably do not. But I'm truthful. And in truth I know... the Lord IS good to Me. But still the truth remains...losing your best friend, your other half, your soul mate, your everything....is absolutely, totally, completely, and has been for the past 10 months and 18 days....awful.
So now what. Where does my song go? Backward or sideways. No forward I go. What else can I do? Paralyzed by grief...is a phrase that now I understand. But not a phrase for me!!!!!!! And yet it'd beeeee...so verrrrry easy. To fall into it, paralyze away. But, trudge away...trudge away...forward inch by inch. Some days it seems not so hard.
Then like a wave from the pacific ocean I'm suddenly swamped, tumbling round, over sharp shells and even harder ground. The grief just swallows me up and there I am....gulping for air between sobs. Shaking my head at my God. Telling Him that He was WRONG! Wrong, wrong, wrong. So verrrry verrry wrong. His decision was wrong. But it wasn't. This I know. So I deal with warring voices in my heart. Knowing intellectually that He is never wrong and He will make this life the better for me and Katie and Amie...somehow ....don't know how... without Mike. And I know Mike is happy. Lucky dog. Lucky guy. Lucky Mister. Not by MY side. Someday...again I know I'll see him. So happy will that day be. But how long. Until then, I go....thankful that my God, my Jesus still stays by me even as I hurl my hurt back at Him. That's the most inspirational that I can be....to tell you that He stays and somehow, not sure how exactly it is better than awful but it is...still awful...but somehow slightly less. So lift up this song of mine to Him and to my Mike....smile throught the tears. And say a prayer for Aunt Dorann, Vicki, Donna too. They have lost their mates. And know this awful too. Pray to Jesus help my precious Katie... and my Amie -Lu. Comfort them and ease the pain they feel. Meet their needs. And help me....to mother, guide and be ...the person, gentle/kind/and wise...that my girls still need from me for me to be. So there you go...how am I...awful, awful, awful....trudging by. Holding fast. To the Lord. Thank HIM So...that He will not let go. (end of song)
Friday, August 1, 2014
August 1, 2014
Chocolate. With Kale....hmmm. Not really that bad. This is what life is like gluten free...more energy and "some" weight loss and definitely increased flexibility. So...all is good. Physically, I am getting in much better shape. Emotionally...I am where I was with my entry of a few hours ago. But putting things on paper....helpful. I sent it off to a bunch of my family and friends. Please feel totally free to punch it into your spam or trash folder when you get the note that I have a blog. It really is only to tell you it exists...not to have you feel you must follow my meandering thoughts. :). But it seems kinda sad really...to have a blog and not tell anyone that I personally know. Therefore....I am now checking off notifying those I care about that I have a blog off my to do list. Again....no worries about actually having to read it! But hey....I may motivate some of you to do a blog. It's rather cathartic actually. Maybe. I think. I'll know better after I get some sleep. Recommendation for trudging thru life.....reading /listening (Amie got me the audiobook for the car)..."Mere Christianity" by CS Lewis. Oh...any maybe trying some dried kale and chocolate! Really not bad at all...after the first few bites. :)
Chocolate. With Kale....hmmm. Not really that bad. This is what life is like gluten free...more energy and "some" weight loss and definitely increased flexibility. So...all is good. Physically, I am getting in much better shape. Emotionally...I am where I was with my entry of a few hours ago. But putting things on paper....helpful. I sent it off to a bunch of my family and friends. Please feel totally free to punch it into your spam or trash folder when you get the note that I have a blog. It really is only to tell you it exists...not to have you feel you must follow my meandering thoughts. :). But it seems kinda sad really...to have a blog and not tell anyone that I personally know. Therefore....I am now checking off notifying those I care about that I have a blog off my to do list. Again....no worries about actually having to read it! But hey....I may motivate some of you to do a blog. It's rather cathartic actually. Maybe. I think. I'll know better after I get some sleep. Recommendation for trudging thru life.....reading /listening (Amie got me the audiobook for the car)..."Mere Christianity" by CS Lewis. Oh...any maybe trying some dried kale and chocolate! Really not bad at all...after the first few bites. :)
Life 101....again
July 31, 2014
Decided to change the title of my blog. Not sure if I did it correctly...technology is not a user friendly animal. More like a saber-toothed tiger. Vicious and formidable to amateurs such as myself. But I understand it's a sweet kitten ...if you know how to push the right buttons. But I'm an amateur and probably will not get past the "nice kitty"-nervous stage with technology. Nuts & bolts remain unseen, unwelcome and misunderstood. But I am persevering in this whole blog attempt...hopefully I won't totally mess it up.
The reason I changed the title...too many thoughts crowding in. And they're not always about this horrible journey of widowness. So I will write the ones about grieving and being a widow...as well as my other mundane, extraordinary, ordinary and uniquely-Suz....thoughts. But ...trudging through widow-ness remains the focus of this entry.
Today...it's been 10 months and 6 days since Mike died. And it remains absolutely horrible. Awful. And painful. Crying and hurting. And then....done. For sometimes hours. Going through life neither terribly happy or terribly unhappy. Sometimes even laughing one moment and the next...spears of sadness might pierce through as my eyes light on something or my ears hear something ...that reminds me of Mike. I never know when, where or if it will happen. People around me don't even know when it happens. Only God is aware of the piercings....usually. Sometimes they're so deep and serrated that crying erupts involuntarity and potently...too potent to hide it from the girls. Other times, only the dog sees. Other times...only God. I sing songs. To Mike. To God. I make up the words. I push the curtain (its invisible but its there and it isn't a chasm...it's simply a curtain that the human bodily eye cannot see but...it's there. Dividing me from Mike. Me from God. Me from Heaven. Hell on the other hand. It exists much further away than a mere invisible-to-the-human-eye curtain. Which is good. Cause I don't see it in my minds eye. But I do see the one dividing me from Mike...and from God. And I see Mike parting it and Jesus with this kind and understanding look in His eyes watching ...and allowing ...Mike to do so. And we talk. Me mostly but Mike answers. And I cry...and ask why? Why? Why Lord? Why? It's so not fair. It's so wrong. And today....today was a bit different that the other days and the other questioning.
Today...I had it imprinted upon my heart that I was to forgive. Forgive the hospice nurse who was so incompetent and uncaring and awful in managing Mike's pain. Forgive her boss...also incompetent and cold when the whole visit and dying of Mike was all around them and so hard to get through...yet they were awful..cold and indifferent. Forgive them. Forgive Mike for not quitting work before it was too late to have truly one on one time together. Forgive myself...for everything I didn't do well enough to me for Mike. And for putting grocery store runs and business stuff ahead of just dropping everything in life and spending every moment I could with Mike. I just thought we'd have more time. I just....and that is what is hardest. Forgiving God for not giving us more. For snatching Mike. Snatching...not waiting until we were more ready to let go and give him over. We knew we were going to have to. But I wasn't done holding tightly onto Mike yet....not ready to let go. And God snatched him from me....like a kid in a 2 year-old church nursery snatches a toy away from another 2 year-old who'se been talking with the teacher about why they should share...and let this other child have a turn with the toy. And I was like that little child...almost... ready to let go. But not there yet. And then God, You snatched him!!!! You grabbed him right out of my hands! Like some mean little bully-like kid in a church nursery. Mike was Snatched! Not given. And you were to wait until we were ready to "give". And so I've done what every 2 year old does when a beloved toy is not let go of voluntarily but snatched from their hold...I've cried and screamed and yelled and stamped and begged for it back. I think about how I used to lift my hands and sing to Jesus, "I surrender all". And in my heart...I was willing to give everything I had to God. Everything...including Mike and the girls..and even my life. But I was to "give it" eg: hand it over. Not have it or any of the it's I was willing to surrender...snatched!!! I look at those singing the words to such songs today and shake my head at how they (and I) are so unbelievably naive as to what "conditions" we actually place upon the words we are singing. "Conditions" of just how the "surrendering" is to occur. We sure have them. And don't even recognize that we do as we blithely sing away. Naively unaware of how un-ready we are to truly surrender anything unless God handles the "taking" of it in our not-even-recognized-by-ourselves-way-He-should-do-that".
But then there was today. And today.... in the midst of raw, hurt and while wiping at tears...God thrust the thought into my mind that I was to forgive. Forgive the Hospice nurse and nurses plural was the first thoughts that came. Why I don't know. I wasn't particularly thinking about them even but just about missing Mike. But the need to forgive them was suddenly just...there. Then...the need was imprinted on my mind next that I was to also forgive God. Next...Mike. Lastly...Myself.
So I talked it out loud. Thought about it throughout the day. And now...realize I am closer to Jesus through the understanding and attempt. And that closeness to Jesus...that is what brings me closest to contentment. I don't know when I'll get to actual joy. But contentment....is good. So now...mixed in with the piercings of pain...are piercings of contentment. Between it all...is neither terribly happy nor terribly sad. Not exactly an indifference. Just...not joy. Which is actually something I used to have often. Joy in Mike. Joy in the Lord. Joy in life. Joy in my daughters. Joy in Creation. Joy. Crummyness too. I wasn't living in utopia...pain, hurt, misery all mixed in there as well. But I knew joy. I did. And I knew contentment. So far...all these mentioned emotions are felt in life these days...but not joy. So...at least I'm finding a bit of contentment poking into my heart at times. That is good. I know joy will come.
Because another emotion I hadn't felt since Mike died came very very VERY briefly while I was driving down Abercorn Street a couple weeks ago. It was like a vertical slit appeared in the view ahead of my car....and it separated open about 5 - 8 inches wide. And as I looked at it...I felt well up inside me....optimism about my future! I felt optimistic! For the first time since Mike had died. An emotion that hadn't been felt was suddenly and vibrantly in me and I was so aware of it. And then...the slit closed and the feeling vanished. But...I had felt it. It was eye-opening. First, to recognize that I hadn't felt the emotion called optimism since Mike had died was a whole epiphany in itself. Then to understand that I had felt it....and that it was now gone. Was another. Last...to realize that I felt the whole experience was a God given little sliver of hope. Cause it hasn't returned. But the memory remains...and the hope that it will...is (sigh)...well...it's helpful. Good. It is a good thing to have had happen. I mentioned it to a friend who had lost her husband two years ago (they'd been separated for many years beforehand). She shared that when she looked at the expanse of her life ahead of her..she just felt bleakness. It was good to know I was not alone. For whenever I thought about my future without Mike....I too had seen only bleakness. Bleak is painful. The definitiion of bleak according to Webster is "cold; cutting; unsheltered; harsh; not cheerful; gloomy; dreary; pale; treeless; bare and wan; not promising or hopeful. " THAT is what losing half of your heart is like. What life is like as you go through it... walking and breathing. Looking normal to those about you...yet with this gaping, oozing wound. This raw stump existing where half my body used to be. And my future .... as I walk through the present feeling that wound...seems so very very very bleak.
So yes... incredible hope sprang into me when I saw that slit and felt that pang...and recognized it as...Optimism! Wow. To again view life ahead optimistically. Wow. This is good. It hasn't reappeared again within me but I have hope. As I look ahead at a bleak future...I have hope. And I have spears of contentment that shoot through here and there. And I feel myself held more and more in the Lords hands. So...10 months and 6 days...this is where I am. Whether my next entry will be about grieving or ...just thoughts. I don't know. But maybe..I will, down the road, realize I've written an entry completely overflowing with both optimism and joy.
Decided to change the title of my blog. Not sure if I did it correctly...technology is not a user friendly animal. More like a saber-toothed tiger. Vicious and formidable to amateurs such as myself. But I understand it's a sweet kitten ...if you know how to push the right buttons. But I'm an amateur and probably will not get past the "nice kitty"-nervous stage with technology. Nuts & bolts remain unseen, unwelcome and misunderstood. But I am persevering in this whole blog attempt...hopefully I won't totally mess it up.
The reason I changed the title...too many thoughts crowding in. And they're not always about this horrible journey of widowness. So I will write the ones about grieving and being a widow...as well as my other mundane, extraordinary, ordinary and uniquely-Suz....thoughts. But ...trudging through widow-ness remains the focus of this entry.
Today...it's been 10 months and 6 days since Mike died. And it remains absolutely horrible. Awful. And painful. Crying and hurting. And then....done. For sometimes hours. Going through life neither terribly happy or terribly unhappy. Sometimes even laughing one moment and the next...spears of sadness might pierce through as my eyes light on something or my ears hear something ...that reminds me of Mike. I never know when, where or if it will happen. People around me don't even know when it happens. Only God is aware of the piercings....usually. Sometimes they're so deep and serrated that crying erupts involuntarity and potently...too potent to hide it from the girls. Other times, only the dog sees. Other times...only God. I sing songs. To Mike. To God. I make up the words. I push the curtain (its invisible but its there and it isn't a chasm...it's simply a curtain that the human bodily eye cannot see but...it's there. Dividing me from Mike. Me from God. Me from Heaven. Hell on the other hand. It exists much further away than a mere invisible-to-the-human-eye curtain. Which is good. Cause I don't see it in my minds eye. But I do see the one dividing me from Mike...and from God. And I see Mike parting it and Jesus with this kind and understanding look in His eyes watching ...and allowing ...Mike to do so. And we talk. Me mostly but Mike answers. And I cry...and ask why? Why? Why Lord? Why? It's so not fair. It's so wrong. And today....today was a bit different that the other days and the other questioning.
Today...I had it imprinted upon my heart that I was to forgive. Forgive the hospice nurse who was so incompetent and uncaring and awful in managing Mike's pain. Forgive her boss...also incompetent and cold when the whole visit and dying of Mike was all around them and so hard to get through...yet they were awful..cold and indifferent. Forgive them. Forgive Mike for not quitting work before it was too late to have truly one on one time together. Forgive myself...for everything I didn't do well enough to me for Mike. And for putting grocery store runs and business stuff ahead of just dropping everything in life and spending every moment I could with Mike. I just thought we'd have more time. I just....and that is what is hardest. Forgiving God for not giving us more. For snatching Mike. Snatching...not waiting until we were more ready to let go and give him over. We knew we were going to have to. But I wasn't done holding tightly onto Mike yet....not ready to let go. And God snatched him from me....like a kid in a 2 year-old church nursery snatches a toy away from another 2 year-old who'se been talking with the teacher about why they should share...and let this other child have a turn with the toy. And I was like that little child...almost... ready to let go. But not there yet. And then God, You snatched him!!!! You grabbed him right out of my hands! Like some mean little bully-like kid in a church nursery. Mike was Snatched! Not given. And you were to wait until we were ready to "give". And so I've done what every 2 year old does when a beloved toy is not let go of voluntarily but snatched from their hold...I've cried and screamed and yelled and stamped and begged for it back. I think about how I used to lift my hands and sing to Jesus, "I surrender all". And in my heart...I was willing to give everything I had to God. Everything...including Mike and the girls..and even my life. But I was to "give it" eg: hand it over. Not have it or any of the it's I was willing to surrender...snatched!!! I look at those singing the words to such songs today and shake my head at how they (and I) are so unbelievably naive as to what "conditions" we actually place upon the words we are singing. "Conditions" of just how the "surrendering" is to occur. We sure have them. And don't even recognize that we do as we blithely sing away. Naively unaware of how un-ready we are to truly surrender anything unless God handles the "taking" of it in our not-even-recognized-by-ourselves-way-He-should-do-that".
But then there was today. And today.... in the midst of raw, hurt and while wiping at tears...God thrust the thought into my mind that I was to forgive. Forgive the Hospice nurse and nurses plural was the first thoughts that came. Why I don't know. I wasn't particularly thinking about them even but just about missing Mike. But the need to forgive them was suddenly just...there. Then...the need was imprinted on my mind next that I was to also forgive God. Next...Mike. Lastly...Myself.
So I talked it out loud. Thought about it throughout the day. And now...realize I am closer to Jesus through the understanding and attempt. And that closeness to Jesus...that is what brings me closest to contentment. I don't know when I'll get to actual joy. But contentment....is good. So now...mixed in with the piercings of pain...are piercings of contentment. Between it all...is neither terribly happy nor terribly sad. Not exactly an indifference. Just...not joy. Which is actually something I used to have often. Joy in Mike. Joy in the Lord. Joy in life. Joy in my daughters. Joy in Creation. Joy. Crummyness too. I wasn't living in utopia...pain, hurt, misery all mixed in there as well. But I knew joy. I did. And I knew contentment. So far...all these mentioned emotions are felt in life these days...but not joy. So...at least I'm finding a bit of contentment poking into my heart at times. That is good. I know joy will come.
Because another emotion I hadn't felt since Mike died came very very VERY briefly while I was driving down Abercorn Street a couple weeks ago. It was like a vertical slit appeared in the view ahead of my car....and it separated open about 5 - 8 inches wide. And as I looked at it...I felt well up inside me....optimism about my future! I felt optimistic! For the first time since Mike had died. An emotion that hadn't been felt was suddenly and vibrantly in me and I was so aware of it. And then...the slit closed and the feeling vanished. But...I had felt it. It was eye-opening. First, to recognize that I hadn't felt the emotion called optimism since Mike had died was a whole epiphany in itself. Then to understand that I had felt it....and that it was now gone. Was another. Last...to realize that I felt the whole experience was a God given little sliver of hope. Cause it hasn't returned. But the memory remains...and the hope that it will...is (sigh)...well...it's helpful. Good. It is a good thing to have had happen. I mentioned it to a friend who had lost her husband two years ago (they'd been separated for many years beforehand). She shared that when she looked at the expanse of her life ahead of her..she just felt bleakness. It was good to know I was not alone. For whenever I thought about my future without Mike....I too had seen only bleakness. Bleak is painful. The definitiion of bleak according to Webster is "cold; cutting; unsheltered; harsh; not cheerful; gloomy; dreary; pale; treeless; bare and wan; not promising or hopeful. " THAT is what losing half of your heart is like. What life is like as you go through it... walking and breathing. Looking normal to those about you...yet with this gaping, oozing wound. This raw stump existing where half my body used to be. And my future .... as I walk through the present feeling that wound...seems so very very very bleak.
So yes... incredible hope sprang into me when I saw that slit and felt that pang...and recognized it as...Optimism! Wow. To again view life ahead optimistically. Wow. This is good. It hasn't reappeared again within me but I have hope. As I look ahead at a bleak future...I have hope. And I have spears of contentment that shoot through here and there. And I feel myself held more and more in the Lords hands. So...10 months and 6 days...this is where I am. Whether my next entry will be about grieving or ...just thoughts. I don't know. But maybe..I will, down the road, realize I've written an entry completely overflowing with both optimism and joy.
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