Category Archives: Grief

I’M MOVING and PROMISES

Death, Faith in God, Family, Grief, Loss, Marriage, Miscellaneous

You could say I had been FROZEN.

Then I was STUCK.

SPEAKING OF STUCK………that makes me think a few years back when Loren and I, out of sheer necessity, were cleaning out a 2 1/2 feet deep water, silt-filled, mucky culvert in the back 40.  We each had shovels and knee high rubber boots on.  Well, we long ago learned to never go into a creek-line together, especially near a culvert,  so the other could pull ‘em out if needed.  Well, I sank in silt-mud up to my knees.  I was caught.  Loren yanked on me from the edge.  Neither boot of mine would budge.  We were laughing hysterically. Using his shovel, he tried to create pockets of air around my feet.  I was still stuck.  He cautiously stuck one foot on the edge of the creek-line to gain some leverage.  He started to sink.  He became stuck too. Our shovels were basically useless other than good handles to lean on. With much deliberate effort, we slid our feet out of our rubber boots and then crawled out of the muck. We were in wet, thick mud up to our elbows,  entire legs and bellies.  We never Sheridan-20121009-00096could retrieve my one stuck boot until the following summer after the water receded.

SOME MAY SAY I AM STILL STUCK because:

  • At 20 months-out-to- the-day, I’m still very much in love with my deceased husband. My heart is with him.
  • I love my life living in the home we built and shared.
  • I have no desire to change my residence or the memories that surround me at the ranch.
  • I’m not looking for another life with anyone else.

 

But, I SAY I AM MOVING FORWARD because:

  • I have found meaningful friendships. There is a lessened void.
  • I can now immerse myself in Biblical devotions and apply Truths without dwelling on grief.
  • I can now drive to church on Sunday mornings without the hot, flowing tears.
  • I can now eat in a restaurant by myself without feeling severe loneliness.
  • I no longer cringe when I hear the words “widow” and “single”. I AM those two words and I AM “OK” with it.  To refuse those labels would be a form of denial.  I feel it is my job to face this portion of my life head-on.  To live through it.  To live it out and learn to be content in it.  Whether I like it or not, I’ve been thrown into a new season.

Furthermore the truth is, every one of us will at some point in our life face a deep level of despair.   Every one of us will at some point feel like our world has fallen apart.  Every one of us will at some point question God’s goodness.  God never promised us a rose garden.  But, God does promise He will be with us.

“So, God, I’m thankful I’m no longer frozen.  I’m even thankful I can feel pain. I’m more thankful I’m not running from being alone and loneliness.  Thank you for the journey of contentment.  I thank You for helping me discover new things about myself.  Amen. “

MISSING THE GUYS, ALONE-NESS, and RESPECTING OTHER MARRIAGES

Faith in God, Family, Grief, Loss, Marriage, Miscellaneous

I miss hanging with Loren at the coffee shop.  I miss hanging with him while he’s talking with buddies about repairing quads, finding car or farm equipment parts, or solving the world’s problems. I miss hanging with Loren while we run into Skyberg Hardware to purchase farm supplies. I miss the drivers and dispatchers from Winco.  I knew some of them and their wives for 30 years. I miss the life of big equipment and trucks.  The list goes on.  But sometimes life’s circumstances insist we adjust……

1. ACCEPTING THE NECESSARY CHANGE OF MALE FRIENDSHIPS

99% of Loren’s male friends are married men who are concerned for my well-being.  Non-the-less, the dynamics of our relationships have dramatically changed. 

And the change HAD to happen. It’s all about wisdom.  Reciprocation.  Honoring another man and his wife.  Honoring their relationship and never doing anything to impede on that marriage’s well-being.   I would expect the same if the situations were reversed.  See, I’ve long witnessed needy single women hanging on to solid married men.

So, I now sit on the other side of the restaurant when I go in to Coyote Joe’s.  I often wave and say hi to the guys but no longer sit amongst a group of 6 – 10 men. Periodically one or two might give me a quick side hug and ask how I’m doing.

2.  ACCEPTING MY IDENTITY

Changes.  Changes. They feel magnified this fall/winter.  In reality, I’m not excluded. I’m blessed to live in a small town where I’m known because of my job with the School District along with owning and operating my Music Studio.   I’m blessed to live in a small town that knew Loren and I as joint business owners.  I’m blessed to live in a small town who knew Loren as the School Board’s Chairman.  Because we supported our local businesses, people knew us.  I’m still known.  I’m blessed.

3. EMBRACING  NEW FRIENDSHIPS

Loss dwells in me.  But I have been pro-active by becoming a part of a social circle of other single Christian ladies.  Sharing the same ugly loss.  Monthly we get together to laugh like young girls, eat a meal, shed a quick tear, and inevitably tell our most recent crazy stories that life has thrown at us.  I can’t imagine life without these precious friends.

4. RECOGNIZING WE ARE DESIGNED FOR COMPANIONSHIP

One thing I have learned.  We are designed for companionship.  God knew what He was talking about.  We are not meant to be alone.  However, I’m not convinced I want to re-marry.  My life is full with my family, increased responsibilities of maintaining the ranch,  and a job that puts me smack dab in the middle of 480 kids. Then there’s the biggest contributing factor in my thought process:  I still am very much in love with Loren. My heart is with him.

“So, God, so far I have made solid choices.  I’m going to keep listening to that still small voice in my heart.  Listening so I can stay in the center of Your will, because that is where I want to remain.  With You.  Amen.”

(BTW.  I may very well write a blog about the many reasons why not to remarry.  ha.)

WHAT I’VE LEARNED ABOUT MARRIAGE AFTER MY HUSBAND’S PASSING

Children, Death, Faith in God, Family, Grandchildren, Grief, Marriage, Miscellaneous

We ended up with the story book marriage but I’d be lying to say our 37 year marriage didn’t have rough patches, daunting flaws. It’s my opinion a high percentage of marriages are just like mine was. Far less than perfect. At times highly exhilarating. Satisfying but exhausting. As a widow, I’ve been purposing to reminisce, to recall, to honestly re-visit “us”.  That is, looking at Loren and my marriage from every angle, every side.  I’m now  learning to apply that “19 -month- out- understanding” so I can continue with this process.  That grief process.

My marriage was exhausting because:

  • It took effort to give up selfishness.
  • This image was captured the day after Loren's Celebration of Life.
    I feel this picture describes many marriages, even Christian marriages.

    It took effort to actively cleave to my spouse (as if climbing a steep mountain).

  • It took effort to maintain the “we are a team” spirit.
  • It took effort to continue learning about him, that is, what his new developed hobbies might be. (Because he had so many varied interests  it took me a long time to embrace that idea).
  • It took effort to “pick our battles”.  There will always be things that aggravate you about your loved one.

My marriage was exhilarating because:

  • My greatest highs / peaks were with Loren (wedding, children’s births, vacations, special events, our intimate times).
  • I had someone who put me first before anything else.
  • I had someone who challenged me to try new things (racing at the Drag Strip, becoming an NRA instructor, driving dump truck and log truck).
  • I had someone to communicate with. To discuss life with.  To develop ideas with.  To dream with.

My marriage was satisfying because:

  • We were seeing the rewards of commitment, the fruit of our labor and effort in our marriage.
  • We were providing stability for our grown adult children and our grandchildren.
  • We were relishing our empty nest years together. Finally, again having time to ourselves, as if newlyweds.

Some of the harsh realities I am just now starting to “mull over” are:

  • Even with Loren being gone, I’m still me. An aged version, a changed version, but still me.
  • I didn’t find my ultimate happiness just because he was my spouse.
  • My self esteem wasn’t determined by what my spouse thought of me.
  • My husband couldn’t ultimately meet my spiritual needs. He also couldn’t ultimately hinder my spiritual growth.
  • I was the one who backed off and let him take over certain responsibilities when, in reality, it would’ve been better if we would have taken turns in a greater variety of responsibilities.  Doing that, adjusting to becoming a widow might’ve been easier.
  • I can’t use this widow situation as a cop out for losing momentum in life.
  • I mustn’t give in to the lie that life will forever be incomplete without Loren.  (I’m still pondering this thought because my heart tells me something very different).
  • I can’t bury myself with him, even though I initially wanted to die with him.

“So God. I’m gaining some perspective.  I’m not sure how it all goes together so please guide me.  Amen.”

FOCUSING ON NOT FOCUSING

Faith in God, Grief, Miscellaneous

On Sunday morning Pastor Brian’s words grabbed me like a vice. Once more I needed to hear what I already knew in my head. But a person can logically know something in their head and not embrace it in their heart! Pastor Brian had said, “Don’t focus on life not being fair.  You’ll miss an opportunity.”  See, in recent weeks Pastor Brian, Pastor Shaun and Pastor Tim have all been teaching out of the book of Acts in the Bible.  Brian was talking how the apostle Paul was bound in chains for 2 years.  Paul was being treated unfairly. Yet during his hardship he used every opportunity to speak what he believed to be Truth.  He lived his life in a way that modeled the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now that I’m 18 ½ months out, now that the shock has worn off, now that I am way past the initial episodes of denial, I must confess that deep down inside, buried within, I have felt life is unfair with my husband passing away when he did.  Better yet (sarcasm intended on these 2 words), I’ve been feeling life is unfair ALL THE WHILE declaring and even believing that God is in control of my life!

So yes, today I acknowledge there is a gap.  Even a chasm.  My statement saying “God is in control” and my feelings of “Life seems unfair” do not blend.  They do not easily connect.  You could say  incongruent.  You could say incompatible.  Non-the-less, this is where I am at in my grief journey.

In the meantime, life goes on.  In the 1st year I wanted answers.  I wanted to know “WHY?”.  I now see how I thought God owed me an answer so I could understand “why?”.  However, I believe I am closer to accepting that God doesn’t owe me anything, as far as answers go of why he allowed my husband to pass away.  I wouldn’t understand God’s ways anyways because He is God and I am human. He’s ALL – KNOWING.  My understanding is limited.

But today I am focusing that I will NOT focus on life not being fair!

“So God.  I confess there are days I hate what I’m having to live out.  Then there are days where I’m at peace with my life as a widow.  My emotions are not as tangled as they once were.  Yet, there’s still work to be done in my belief system, with my “trust issues” with You.  So God help me.  I’m also trusting in the future I’ll eagerly await that concept of embracing new opportunities.  Amen.”

He said, “Your husband…..”

Children, Death, Family, Grief, Loss, Marriage, Miscellaneous

This morning my chiropractor, whom I see every 6 months or so, made a statement to me, starting his sentence with the words, “Your husband……”  See, Loren had been a patient of Dr. Holton also, along with our daughter Brianne having been a childhood friend of his oldest daughter, Elizabeth.  Hearing the words “your husband” immediately brought a rush of warmth and calm to my heart and body.  Hearing those words equally brought quick, hot tears that burned my eyes and cheeks.

But, I welcomed those quick, hot tears because someone remembered him.  Someone spoke of him.  Someone referred to Loren and my life together.  Someone remembered him as my husband.

And it is well with me that Loren and I always be remembered together! Loren & Julia  Of course, he was his own strong – willed person full of wit and sarcasm.  I’m my own strong-willed person, too.   But we grew together.  We merged in to one together.  Merging into one was not an easy task for us.  But we accomplished it, together, as a team.  We had that “forever connection”. 

I’m grateful our marriage didn’t end in a painful divorce.  In our 37 years we went through periods of time where a wall of unspoken distance loomed. Even though we very much loved each other, there were periods of time we were not even friends…. lovers & raising a family together, yes.  But not close friends.  I have a life-long friend who is now walking through her own immense grief and pain because her husband has left her for another woman after 40 years of marriage.  THAT is pain.  THAT is the epitomy of grief.  Her layers of grief are different than mine, but nonetheless horrific.  Excruciating.  Haunting.

I’m forever grateful that Loren and his graduation to heaven happened in a season of renewed love.  I’m forever grateful our separation happened in a season of much companionship.  Happened in a season of close friendship, a season of undeniable commitment in heart, soul and body with multitudes of “I love  you’s” spoken to each other without restraint.  Unabandoned carefree love as happy empty nesters.  Unabandoned commitment.

Today Dr. Holton said, “Your husband….” Because of Loren’s passing I recognize we legally are not husband and wife but those 2 words are music to my ears for in my heart and mind Loren continues to be just that.  My husband.

JUST A LITTLE BIT, JUST A LITTLE BIT

Death, Family, Grief, Loss, Miscellaneous
Another change is coming! Fall, my favorite time of the year.
JUST A LITTLE BIT, JUST A LITTLE BIT…I’m happy a new season has arrived.

Every day I laugh just a little bit, just a little bit.  Every day I smile just a little bit, just a little bit.  Every day I accept my life just a little bit, just a little bit.  Most days I cry just a little bit, just a little bit.

But, as fall has arrived, as the leaves are changing colors, as some dead leaves have already fallen from the trees ~ I feel a change within me.  I wish I could identify the change.  To label it.

I welcome the change all the while hanging on to what was. I welcome the episodes of happiness all the while hanging on to my sorrow, the friend that I have become well acquainted with.  Ol’ Sorrow, that friend whom I’ve lived, even communed, with these past 18 months. Ol’ Sorrow, the partner I’ve shared my life with since my husband has gone.

“So, Lord,  the Scripture says when You start a work in a person You will complete it to the very end.  I can’t imagine how this will end up looking because I relished my world with Loren and the picture I was a part of.  I’m just now willing to even consider opening up my eyes.  So teach me to pray  just a little bit, just a little bit each day.  Teach me to trust  just a little bit, just a little bit each day.”

CRUISING, LISTENING and OTHER FIRSTS

Grief, Marriage, Miscellaneous

Today I took my shiny bright red Dodge Challenger out for a cruise.  The first time I’ve taken it out for a drive without someone sitting in that other bucket seat.  While cruising,  I listened to two  “love song CD’s” for the first time. They were CD’s Loren & I had made for each other.   One of the two I had just created for him, that is, 45 days before he passed away ~ it was a 2015 Valentine’s Day gift.

I was ready.  It’s 17 months and I’m just now ready to listen to those songs.  Some of the songs made me laugh audibly.  See, there were hidden meanings in those songs that only he & I understood.  Those meanings that only long-time lovers understand.  Some of the songs made me sob.  Sobbing for reasons only a person who’s lost their true love would understand.  But that was O.K.   Today that was O.K.  I was ready. I was ready to listen to those CD’s.

There are two more CD’s that we made for each other.  I’ll need to listen to them another time.  I’m not ready.  I’m in overload emotionally.  But, I’m good where I’m at.  To purposefully submit myself to more sentiment would be sheer foolishness. I’m learning.  Learning to pace myself with grief.  Learning to pace myself in life!

I’m feeling proud and content with myself.   Content that I braved it to drive “that car”, his gift to me on Valentine’s Day 2014.  Content that I braved it to listen to a portion of “our songs”.

BUT,  there are more “firsts” yet to come:

  • Bury his ashes in our burial plot
  • Shoot some of his ashes out of his shotgun, first (his long-time requested wish)
  • Watch the entire video of Loren’s Memorial Service
  • See if I can figure out how he organized his shop
  • Go a step further, as far as doing more specific things with his clothing

But I’m not ready and there is no rush nor do I let expectations from others dictate when the right time is.  These are all things I will want to do.   Yet, I’m blessed my 4 children are not pushing me.  I’m blessed my situation does not force me to move quickly.  In time.  In time it will happen.

“So, Lord, I thank you that You help me move forward step by step, bit by bit.  The scripture says, “In Your time You make all things beautiful”.  I don’t see beauty yet, but I do see Your hand… how You slowly nudge me forward in baby increments.  Keep nudging me because I’m not prone to take leaps.”

TIME and GRANDKIDS with GRIEF

Children, Family, Grandchildren, Grief, Loss, Marriage, Miscellaneous

This past weekend I enjoyed 4 of my 6 grandchildren, ages 13 months to 10 years old, at my home.  I always look forward to time with them.  Time with me, I’m aware, that won’t always be readily available as they get older and become more involved in extra-curricular activities.  Midst the hugs and contentment, I shed more tears than I’ve shed in prior weeks combined. I did my best to conceal my tears because I don’t want to ruin their time when they come out to the ranch.

I grabbed on to the time with the kiddos and purposed to cement wonderful memories into my heart and brain. Mental pictures and literal pictures.  Yet, time with the grandkids was equally painful this time ’round.  Adeline is stretching up.  Olivia is growing too fast.  Ireland also. Lincoln seems to change from day to day.   And my greatest pain is that grandpa is missing out on these changes.  His grandchildren brought him deep joy.  Because Loren and I didn’t do the greatest job parenting our 4 children as a team, we, as a couple, relished our 2nd chance…this time as grandparents…having more wisdom of what to do and what not to do.6DG_3857

The grandkids and I kept our routine.  Ate Cinnamon Crunch cereal.  Oreo’s.  Ate at Coyote Joe’s.  Popcorn at 10 p.m.

  • I also danced my heart out with the girlies. Just like Loren and I used to do with the girlies.  To our favorite BEE GEE’S CD.  That was the first time the crushing sorrow hit me on Saturday.  Even then I wondered how I could have so much fun with them while the wind was being knocked out of me….that blow from death.  That unrelenting blow that collides into your heart first, then overtaking the body and the energy.
  • Olivia reminisced how she was “grandpa’s little woodcutting helper”. She reminisced about helping grandpa measure each piece of firewood at a perfect length.  She’s also very proud she was the one who helped him sort brass.
  • Adeline reminisced how “grandpa would sneak some of her blueberries” when they were eating dinner. She reminisced how he liked to grab bites of food here and there whenever we were in the kitchen.  Plus she loved how he would be the one who would cut her waffles or pancakes.
  • Then at bedtime we prayed. This time both Adeline and Olivia asked me,  “Grandma, will you pray and tell Grandpa “hi” for us in heaven?” I just about choked.  But, with childlike faith we prayed.  I asked Jesus to tell Grandpa “hi” and let him know we all love him and miss him. I’m still crying over this prayer request. Might be for a great while.

“Dear God, I hope in time every Birthday party, every Holiday, every event spent with the grandkids won’t always bear this level of pain. Help me to adjust to happiness and sorrow co-mingling.  Dangling in between is a hard, hard place to be.  I want to be free of this ‘in between place’ so I can be happy like the children. “

EMERGING

Death, Family, Grief, Loss, Miscellaneous

QUOTE OF MY WEEK:  “Grief Feels Like Fear”.   C.S. Lewis

My counselor tells me I am “emerging”.  I’ve been told this is a good sign as far as the grief journey goes.  I no longer am fixated on his death.  I fixate on my loss less than I used to. But, I’m having to learn to say, “I”.

My husband was a force.  I had described him as a force for years but only until today have I taken the effort to Google the definition of FORCE:  “Strength or energy as in an attitude or movement”.

I loved that he was a force.  And I also struggled with it, as his wife.  I needed his zeal and determination.  But I was exhausted trying to keep up with him and most people consider ME to be a high energy person!  Much of my identity and the many tastes were centered around who Loren & I were as a couple.  We were together 37 1/2 years. “WE” were individuals but still one. The miracle of marriage.

Through a course of many events and key people in our lives, we all, as children, eventually emerge into the people we will become.  But today, September 12, 2016, parts of me feel as if I am a child, again.  Periodically I feel “afraid”.  Now, I don’t feel afraid about tomorrow.  I don’t feel afraid if I’ll survive by myself.  I don’t feel afraid for my safety.  But,

This image was captured the day after Loren's Celebration of Life.
This image was captured the day after Loren’s Celebration of Life Service.
  • I feel afraid of learning who I am, alone, at my age.
  • I feel afraid I may not see pitfalls by myself.
  • I feel afraid of bearing the big financial decisions by myself.  I miss his input.  We were a team.

It has been said, “Grief feels like fear”, quote C.S. Lewis.  Up until now,  at 17 months out, I would have not identified grief as fear.  I would have told you grief feels like an illness…changing my mind, my body, my emotions. But today I identify with C.S. Lewis.  Grief feels like fear.

You’d think I’d be thankful I’m “emerging” from that shocking, all-consuming grief that physically felt like a heavy cloud sitting on me.

I now see I was just starting to feel familiar with what I identified as grief.  Could I even say I was starting to feel “COMFORTABLE”” with grief and it’s unpredictable PREDICTABILITY?  Could I have settled and stayed in that state for the balance of my life?

“So, Lord, help me transition as the cloud no longer daily consumes me. I know Your promises, I believe Your promises.  I know them to be Truth in belief and experience.  Teach me how to trust You in life as it is now,  even while I’m feeling the fear.

”

I TALK TO HIS PICTURE SOMETIMES

Children, Death, Family, Grandchildren, Grief, Loss, Miscellaneous
IMG_0656 (1)
This picture of Loren is the exact picture that is mounted on the wall. 

Many people in grief are afraid to honestly share lest they be viewed as mentally unstable.  We’re not mentally unstable. We’re not in denial.   We’re walking our  walk through the valley of the shadow of death.  We’ll come out on the other side.  In the meantime……

Most mornings and most nights I stop and look at Loren’s larger- than- life picture mounted on the wall near our bedroom door.  That is, the large picture that was displayed at the front of the church at his memorial service a year ago April 2015.  My man looks so stately in that picture.  When I mounted it on the wall, just days after the service, I declared out loud, “You still are the patriarch of this home and I’ll always love you.  I know a house is just a physical place on earth but this picture belongs here so I can see you as I come and go”.

Sometimes I  stand and smile lovingly into his eyes with a smile on my face, feeling peaceful.  Some days I stand and say, “I’ll always love you.”  It’s the next best thing to having him here.

Today I couldn’t smile.  In fact, I couldn’t see his facial features because my eyes were blurry with tears.  Memories simply aren’t enough.

Some days I briefly tell him, “Honey, I’m home!”  Of course I know he’s not in our home but I think I say those words for myself.  To hear my voice speaking to someone as I enter our home after a day at work.  And to have said those words is enough.  Enough for then, at least.

Months back a thought flitted through my mind as I stopped to smile at his face.  “Wouldn’t it be amazing if this picture was a  portal?  An open place between heaven and earth where he and I could see each other and just briefly sense each other?”   Of course I knew this was highly unlikely but that thought comforted me somehow.  Non-the-less, I feel a draw when I stand in front of that picture. I’ve discovered something new:  so does my 13 month old grandson who has never met his grandfather here on earth!!  He smiles and literally giggles out loud when he is lifted in front of that picture…while reaching his hands upward and forward to touch his beard.  You’d have to see it to believe it!

Tonight I’m going to step out on to the deck. I’m going to reach my hands up towards the stars in the heavens and say, “Even though I can’t be with you, dear husband and only one I love, I know where you are and Whom you are with.  I sorrow for myself but I rejoice for you, for YOU are with your Maker!”

“So God, I know the pain is just for a moment in the scope of eternity.  Keep giving me the necessary perspective to grow through grief. ”

QUESTION:  Can you name other things that you’ve seen people in grief do ~ as their way of helping them go through the process of letting go and moving forward?