THE LULU CHRONICLES
|MeMe & Papa with some grandkids|
Today was a perfectly horrible, no good, very bad day. Yeah, Mondays can be like that for just about anyone, but this one was particularly awful. It has been almost six weeks and my husband is still dead. So, I kept bumping into my own sadness like a very bad carnival bumper car driver. For example: This morning I made the bed. Our rule was the last one up made the bed. Five out of seven mornings, I was up first. Now I have to make the bed every morning and will for the rest of my life. Then I folded laundry and one of Gary’s handkerchiefs some how got into the mix. Apparently, it was the last hankie he used. I had found it in one of his coat pockets. In today’s mail was a letter for Gary thanking him for his donation to the cancer fund. In appreciation, they sent him a bazillion stickers with his name printed on them. On the bed stand sits the last book he was reading. This afternoon I practically broke my wrist trying to open a jar. I finally just threw it in the trashcan. And finally, this evening I drove myself to our small group Bible study, the one we’d been attending together for many, many years. I love these people. Gary led this group with an open Bible on his lap. His mix of scholarship and down-to-earth teaching was such a gift. But this time I had a hard time breathing sitting in that living room without him.
Are people uncomfortable around me when I cry? Or, are they more uncomfortable if I don’t? I’ve never been one who tried living up to others expectations of me. I figured most of what I do or did was between me and God and He’d let me know if I fell short. So, I don’t know why I’m even giving it a thought now. I just want to do it right, this mourning thing. I want to honor Gary in the way I do it and not embarrass God with my foolishness. I want to help those around me who loved my husband cope with their loss, but I’m trying so hard not to disappear one limb at a time that I don’t have the energy to help anyone through anything. I hope that’s all right.
This was my step-backward-day. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able take two-steps-forward and gain some ground, or I’d settle for just a baby step if it were in the right direction. I’ve been warned these types of days would happen. It’s not my first. I’m scrambling and scratching to see the ‘good’ in this day. Maybe it’s just the fact that I got up at all and that I actually did some laundry, or that I even remembered to check the mail. After all, my best friend and love of my life died six weeks ago of cancer. Maybe I’m not doing too badly after all.
“The Lord is my Shepherd… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…” Oh, how I’m counting on this to be true.