“What is happening,” I say to myself and then I remember, the same thing happens every September…dreams, easy tears, memories. It is near the anniversary of my husband’s death.
For a week or so the above kept repeating itself. It seemed to take the smallest thing to bring me to tears and a deep memory could find me sobbing. My nights were broken by confused dreams and as much as it was wonderful to have my husband’s presence in them, it was hard to say goodbye and face the real world next morning.
Then finally, like an empty toothpaste tube, I realized again that that part of my life was finished. However, you still have to get up each morning and brush your teeth (with a new tube of toothpaste) and I still had to get up each morning and start the day…and I learned that life does go on, although you never have the same “sparkle or smile” you had before.
But God abhors a vacuum and he has filled all those empty spaces in my life with so many good things (especially those three little great-grandchildren). I spent a weekend of fun with them recently… I attempt to toss a ball to Toby who gives it a good smack and sends me scurrying down the street to retrieve it, and watch one granddaughter dance across the lawn and bow at the end, while the other scowls and waits impatiently for her turn. Kids are cute and with them nearby you have reminders of God’s generosity of laughter and life.
Anniversary’s of events are like a journey. They take a bit of planning and I wonder if that is what I am doing subconsciously…working up to accept again that day when I said goodbye to my husband. Perhaps that is what all my dreams and memories are doing. I wonder if that is why Jesus gathered together his disciples and sat down at a table and blessed wine and bread and said “Do this in remembrance of me.” He knew they would be heartbroken when he left. He left them with an “anniversary” to help them accept the loss of his presence. But of course at that time, they didn’t know that he would return, but He did.
That is why that at this time of year I grieve again…but not as one without hope. For He has promised that there is a place for us in heaven and someday I will have written my last little story and He will say…”Come on Pat, I’ve got a lot of loved ones waiting here to greet you.” And I will have sung my last September song.
Photo by Nate via Flickr (Creative Commons)
