Tag: comforting

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Overwhelmed

As I look around the house, in some places I see that time has passed.  In other places it’s as though time is standing still.

For a long while, I kept everything the same.  After my husband, Tracy, died 4 1/2 years ago, leaving it all as it was, was comforting.  So much had changed because of his death.  So much.  I couldn’t face any more.

Time is a funny thing.  In some ways it helps me move forward.  In other ways I wish I could go backward in time. 

I’ve learned so much through Tracy’s death and trying to keep living.  Many times it feels like I take 2 steps forward and one back.  I know I’m making progress, but sometimes it just seems so tough.

Each night when I go to bed, I wonder if I should set my alarm or not.  Sometimes I need to because of an appointment, but other times I could wake up whenever.

Recently though, I made the decision to schedule important items first thing in the morning.  I really do have much to accomplish each day.  So I decided to apply some structure to my life.  It’s the way I’m continuing to live.  No matter what, life does go on.  By structuring part of my day, it helps me take those steps forward. 

Often it feels like I’m in never-never land.  It’s such a strange journey.  There’s much out of my control.  There are lots of days when I feel like the world is still moving, events still happening, and I’m standing still.

Maybe the worst part is all the decisions.  Decisions about property, house and worst of all – paperwork.  At one time there were several piles of paperwork.  I filled out forms, attached death certificates and went to either the post office to send the documents, or to the UPS store to fax.

In the beginning, it was simple stuff like what to eat.  What church service do I want to go to?  And then it moved on to – what am I going to do about Thanksgiving? Christmas?  Oh dear God, I don’t want to be alone. 

Now, being this far out, it’s more the decisions about house and property.  Mowing, staining the deck, roof leak, car issues, fixing toilets, window replacements, AC issues, shoveling snow, spot seeding the lawn etc. etc.  You get the idea.

When does this all get better?  I sure wish I had an answer.  But for now, it’s a matter of dealing with things one step at a time.  God is walking with me and that helps so much.  Things seem bleak and uncertain, but I know God has a plan – and His Word says it’s good.  No matter what I face or how I feel, I choose to trust Him.  God is greatest & He knows best. 

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The Black Curtain

When someone loses a spouse, there’s a black curtain of sorts that we walk into.  We aren’t walking through it as many outsiders imagine.  No – rather, we walk into it and are enveloped in darkness/emptiness.   I don’t have adequate words to explain it, but it truly does exist.

Even while surrounded by the black curtain, we function.  We greet people at the visitation/wake and funeral/memorial.  Actually, we often end up comforting those who are there for us.  That’s OK.  It gives us something to do and we are enormously touched by the influence of our loved one’s life on so many.  But the fact still remains that we are in the black curtain.

It’s not necessarily depression.  It is completely possible to be immersed in the black curtain and not be depressed.  That was my experience.  But others experience depression or the beginning of depression.  It is NEVER wrong to seek help and medication to cope through it all.  What person, when struggling in the water, would refuse a life preserver?  So some will need this.  It’s not a sign of weakness.  It’s a sign of strength to recognize the need and get help.  Smart – very smart.

How long are we in the black curtain?  It’s different for each person.  An important truth that others need to understand is that there’s no timeline on grief.  It lasts as long as it lasts.

As we move forward and the days become months, and then years, the black curtain turns us loose.  It unfolds section by section.  There’s no magic event that removes it.  We walk around in our everyday, ordinary, back to some sort of normal lives and bring the black curtain with us.  The unfolding comes as bits of light pierce through.  Sometimes we take a step, make a new choice, decide to do something different or embrace enlightenment through a writing or a person.  The black curtain peels back.  We can breathe a little easier and our heart doesn’t feel so heavy.

I’m only 3+ years into this grief journey.  My black curtain is still with me partially. Much of it has unfolded and fallen away.  I have talked with many widows and widowers who lost their spouses many years ago.  Most of their black curtain is gone, but a small piece remains.

I believe that the small piece of the black curtain may stay with each of us.  It doesn’t define us, but it is part of who we are.

I’m no expert, but I think that having that small piece of the black curtain helps us relate to, be empathetic with, and be tenderhearted toward, those who have experienced loss.  Our hearts bleed with their crushed heart.  We connect because we recognize the black curtain in each of us.  I believe God intentionally arranged for this to happen.  In God’s Word to us, the Bible, it says in 2 Corinthians 1:4 – “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others.  When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”

On my grief journey, I’ve learned that God doesn’t waste anything.  My tragedy wasn’t for nothing.  I can see other’s black curtain.  It allows me to practice the ministry of presence.  The small piece of my black curtain connects with their black curtain.  It may be at that moment that a tiny glimmer of light pierces through.  Hope – just a microscopic flicker of hope.  It’s a beginning.  The black curtain begins to unfurl and fall away.