THE LULU CHRONICLES
|Granddaughter, Harper Grace, Atticus and me.|
Something is happening. I’m slowly, slowly, slowly feeling myself coming around a bend of sorts. Probably the first of many but today feels a little different than yesterday. Something is changing a little, letting up. The ragged jab through the middle of my heart isn’t quite as destructive as it has been. It still rips and tears, but there is just a little less… something.
I want to rush this mourning period, get it over with—move on. But sorrow can’t be rushed. If I am to come out the other side of this a whole, functioning and productive person, I must allow the sorrow to do its thing. If I am to keep my faith intact and bitterness from poisoning my soul, I must take my time and feel what needs to be felt. Death teaches patience among other things.
I don’t know if you’ve heard this or not, but our little dog, Murphy, was hit by a car a week before Gary died. I was counting on Murph to help see me through this and then suddenly he was gone too. After Gary died and the last guest went home, the two losses gained up on me big time. Not only did I lose my man, but a sweet, furry friend as well. It was too much. I needed another beating heart in the house. The silence in all the empty spaces was deafening. So, last week I welcomed another little guy into my home. His name is Atticus and he is a ten-week-old labradoodle. Atticus Finch, the dad in Harper Lee’s classic novel, To Kill A Mockingbird, was the Hubs’ favorite fictional character. Gary got a lot of sermon illustrations out of the wisdom and courage of Atticus Finch. I’m hoping my little Atticus will grow into to his name.
Maybe it’s the presence of Atticus or the passing of a month since I lost my darling, but whatever it is, I feel I’ve inched forward toward the edge of the fog. God expects something from me still. He wasn't done with Noah once it stopped raining was He? Maybe He’s not done with me either.
The tears still come. My heart is still broken. My days are still unrecognizable. But something has changed, and I welcome it. I thank my God for His gentle hand upon me and for His compassionate mercy.
“My times are in His hands…” ~ Psalms. 32:15