That I live and you are gone.
There’s a grief that can’t be spoken.
There’s a pain goes on and on.
We went to see Les Mis yesterday. And yes, it was a bit of a trial getting through it. The lyrics above from “Empy Chairs at Empty Tables” resonated with me. I have not had words to type since the last post. It’s been kind of frustrating. There is a lot going through my head and my heart but I cannot find the words to express my grief. It seems just out of reach. Real but not real. A fog. Fatigue. Lack of appetite. Forgetfulness. Body aches. A whirling mind. I look at pictures and feel like I am looking at someone else’s life. I have memories. But they don’t seem like mine. I live for one day at a time. For one moment at a time. I realize how often I would live in the future before Mike became ill. We talked about things we looked forward to doing together. Projects around the house, traveling, friends and family gatherings, dreaming of Rebecca and Keith and Molly’s futures. And now I live in the present. The future holds more fog. It is elusive. Not something that is guaranteed. My mind skips from today and lands in eternity. The pages of life in between have been ripped out of my life book.
When I stop to really think, I begin to realize that it is not a bad thing to live in the present. God has the future planned out already. So I simplify. I rest. I walk. I don’t want to miss the blessings. I want to be thankful. I find that when I am thankful, my heart is a bit lighter.
I will keep this short. Because these are all the words I have for now. When I started writing this blog, I promised myself I would be honest. Brutally honest. I know we each have our own grief to grow through. So we pray for one another. Extend grace to one another. And love one another through it. Honestly. Without insulting the grief work by smoothing it over or making light of it. It is hard. And it is painful. And there is only one way to come out the other side – to go through it. I read something this week that I will paraphrase. It says that God willingly sent His only son to live among us. Jesus experienced suffering, grief, and pain. Just as we do. He didn’t spare his son from the hardships of life. And Jesus did this for me. He died and rose again. He beat death. He beat cancer. He beat despair. And He did this so we can have the hope that together with Him, we can perservere. We can receive His grace and mercy and we will have victory, even in the midst of our sadness and pain. So I have hope. That the words will come. That the fog will lift. And that someday, I will be able to once again look towards the future here on earth with bright hope. All in good time.