Monday, October 14, 2013

Day One...

Gary speaking at recent celebration.


I write this on Monday, the day after my family and I scattered the ashes of our beloved father, grandfather and husband. I suppose you could say this is Day One. It’s the first Monday after the death of Gary and I’m lost, numb and tired—oh, so tired. For five days, my grown children and I have existed in this Neverland of life after a death and let me tell you, it’s a relentless place. We have been sleepwalking through a world we never wanted to discover. A world of funeral decisions and obituaries. A bizarre world where you have to make a choice about urns and morticians—a place of sympathy cards and sad faces.
The Memorial has taken place and now I assume I’m to start my new life… the after-life of what was my life. But, how does one do that? How do you start again when you feel you have been drained of all blood, bone and skin? How do you make yourself put one foot in front of the other when you can’t even feel your feet? My entire body feels like a foreign country to me.  I have to re-learn how to breathe and walk and talk. I have to remind myself to sit down. I find myself walking into rooms in my own house and not knowing where I am. How long will I linger in this awful, awkward emotional land? How do you begin again when you want nothing more than to stop breathing and follow your Loved One to where he has gone off to?
“Holy Father, I long… I so long to sleep and then wake to find that the last five days were just a dream. I long to intertwine my fingers with his. I long to hear his voice. I long… I long for my memories to not have sharp edges.”
What I must keep before me is that I am not alone. I have never been alone. Holy arms hold me up. My God weeps with me all the while embracing my dearest who is no longer here. I don’t understand how that can be, but I believe it with my whole heart.
Day One. It’s just about over. I’ll never have to experience it again. But, Day Two is coming …
“Holy God, take my hand…”



Nichole French said...

I love you Deb. Hugs!
God please be with Deb. Make your presence known Father God, wrap her in your everlasting love.
praise you God for the promise we will see Gary again!
in Jesus holy name amen.

-with love and faith Nichole Dalum-french.

Norman L. Bales said...

I have deeply touched by your eloquent expression of grief. There's a mental picture of Gary forming in my mind. It's a picture of a man with a big smile and a twinkle in his eye. I don't want it to go away.

Don McPherson said...

I love your honesty and your faith that expresses your hurt and hope at the same time. please dear Lord hold Deb in your everlasting arms.

lori gooden said...

I'm not sure if you remember me or not but I remember you and all you and Gary did for me at camp, I find your words to be an encouragement to me personally. My husband has been facing health challenges for a while now. And your words have helped me. By no way I am comparing the pain and hurt you have to my own I just want u to know you have encouraged me. I want to help you, may god be with you as you endure this pain, he will lighten your burden. My prayers are with u and your family.