Okay, things changed this past week. And it was to be expected. The frantic activity of the days surrounding Nancy's death are behind me now. The first deflation and numbness are receding. My first thought is no longer, "I am exhausted." Now, I find myself thinking, "This hurts."
During Nancy's last weeks I rarely felt anything physically. I was gliding. Now a tightness in my neck and shoulders frequently captures my attention. Even releasing my sorrow brings pain, a sort of physical spasm.
My summer blog entries served to drain off some of the tension of living on a roller coaster. It was helpful to share the stress of the crisis with you as it unfolded. In contrast, much of the past week's writing has triggered pain. To record these memories I am revisiting some hard moments. I am picking at scabs. Even blogging doesn't bring the same relief as before.
So, why not "put down the pen and walk away?" First of all, I know that I must capture these memories while they are still vivid. I also recall my friend Ed's encouragement the night of the viewing: "Keep writing. Keep letting us know how to pray." But what to ask HIM for? I don't think my biggest need is for the immediate elimination of the pain I feel. This pain resembles the sensation you feel when the blood starts returning to a leg that has fallen asleep. I need to experience this discomfort in order to walk again some day. Ask, instead, that I will not try to dull the pain with artificial cures, to foolishly soothe myself. I need to learn how to take this pain to our Wise Family Physician, the One whose scar heals all wounds. At the same time, I need his protection to avoid twisting this whole exercise into an emotional martyrdom. He alone can tell me when it's time to close the journal and go for a walk, watch a Phillies game or consort with live humans. Ask HIM for HIS wisdom, protection and guidance as we navigate this phase. So, far HE has kept us safe through the some pretty deep waters.
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Hi Dan. I am glad to read that you are safely home and that the trip brought some comfort and steps towards healing. All I can share from is my own experience, and I know that the loss of a spouse must be very different than the loss of a daughter. But I want you to know that as a fellow Christian figuring out how to walk this "grief road," my prayers are with you - that God would indeed give you "wisdomm, protection, and guidance" as you figure out how to spend your time and energy. Mourning is unbelievably intense work - I had thought when my dad died 10 years ago that it was the most intense grief I could experience, but it did not feel like physical pain to me. With Jess' early departure to Heaven, the grief I have felt is so like you are describing - a literal physical pain that at times I thought was so bad that it seemed like one could not survive it. I always hesitate to talk too much about myself on your blog, because this is about you and your pain and the loss of Nancy, and not about me and my loss. At the same time, I think often of 2 Corinithians 1:4, and I hope that somehow the feeble words I offer are somehow being used by God to "comfort others in all their suffering, as we ourselves are being comforted by God." I am just a tiny step further down the road in my grief than you are in yours, but I hope my prayers for you and your family are more effective because of my situation. What you are doing is so hard and so brave, and your wilingness to post openly about your feelings is something I greatly admire. God bless- Cindy
Dan,
You'll know when our Father says "Enough" about your grieving.
When my dad died and I felt like the rug had been ripped out from under me (his death was sudden). Blogs didn't exist back then, but I had a computer that I poured my grief into...a grief diary I suppose. Well, about a year later, my apartment was broken into and my computer stolen......
Brother I am praying for you. It does hurt to put energy into thinking and processing things. I know that I sometimes put too much effort into thinking and it stops me from feeling the things I feel. Brother please don't here me say that Thinking is bad. I just know your loss is huge and I pray that you can embrace the feelings you are going through and that you feel your Father walking with you. YOU ARE NEVER ALONE HE LOVES YOU, HE'S there to to hurt with you, fight with you, cry with you,remember with you,all this to lavish His mighty love upon you, why? because if you remember the old gospel song from the early day's. For you to sing with your whole heart sing hallelujah to your KING. Again I love you Ger.
I love you, Dan. These are good thoughts. Thank you for sharing them.
Mourning is a spiritual discipline and is such hard work. Thankfully our Brother anguished in the Garden & at Lazarus' tomb. We have psalms of lament & other wisdom literature that remind us that living life without mourning those events will make us naive and shallow if we don't allow death/loss to sober our hearts; instructing us in wisdom.
You will not always mourn this way. The world you knew doesn't seem right without Nancy. It is a vulnerable place to be; bereft.
So many verses describe a widow as one who is vulnerable in society and Israel was commanded to take care of them, provide for them, surround them. Many cultures do just that when someone has lost a spouse. A year of intense mourning for a spouse is counterbalanced by the community sensitively providing protection, physical & emotional needs, and a sounding board for the grief.
Take all the time Dan you need: your community has you covered.
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