Here She Comes
“Coming or going…it’s a matter of perspective.”
A friend of ours from high school is laying his wife to rest today. She struggled for quite some time with COPD. There were many times we thought we were going to lose her. She went in the hospital for the last time five long months ago. In and out of ICU. Ups and downs…crisis after crisis…this family held on to every hope that their mom would come home. That his wife of 38 years would again sit by his side. A couple of weeks ago there was a picture on Facebook…she was sitting up. She was eating dinner. She was hugging her kids and grandkids. She was smiling into the camera. Thinner…but recognizable. Tired…but hopeful. She had rallied and again, the hope was raised. But, alas…it wasn’t to be. The last crisis came and she was just worn out. It was too much for her tired body and she went to her heavenly home.
We went to the funeral home yesterday to pay our respects. I hugged our friend close. I told him I knew he was heartbroken. I told him I knew she was just worn out. He knows I’ve walked this path. He knows he can reach out to me if he needs a shoulder…someone who knows.
In the meantime, I’ll write this…these things I wish I’d known. These things I wish someone had told me. These things I have learned. Perhaps he will read them one of these days in the dark of night when he is feeling that deep pain and know…he’s not alone.
To my dear friend…
I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. You will hear that a lot. You will also hear a lot of other things. You will wonder how on earth people can say things like “She’s in a better place.” or “At least she isn’t suffering.” or “I know what you are going through. My dog died last year.” You don’t need people to tell you such things, but they will. Please remember, they mean well. They haven’t walked this path. They don’t really know. Smile and say thank you and let it go. They don’t mean to cause you pain.
Some people won’t say anything at all and that will hurt even more. It’s not because they don’t care. It’s because they don’t know what to say. They don’t want to hurt you and say the wrong thing…so they say nothing. Try not to take it personally.
Some people who have been your friend forever will disappear. This is the nature of this process. Some people cannot tolerate grief and pain. It hits too close to home for them. Let them go. Wish them well in your heart and turn to those who ARE there for you.
Take your time. Don’t make rash decisions. You are likely having difficulty remembering things. You can’t keep track of time or the sequence of events. You can’t remember who called or who was at the funeral or what you did with those important papers you had just yesterday. Let your loved ones help you. Ask for help when you need it. Keep a notebook with you…in your pocket. Write down who you called and when. Write down the name and number of that person who said “Call me anytime.” Then call…anytime. But rotate your list so you aren’t relying on the same people over and over and over.
Take care of yourself. Try to eat right. Try to get rest. Try to exercise. It’s ok to “mattress surf” once in a while and spend the day in bed with a magazine…but never two in a row. Get up, shower, brush your teeth, and make your bed. You are far less likely to crawl back in if you make it right away. Clean your kitchen sink. It’s amazing what a clean sink can do as far as leading to the next thing. Avoid consuming alcohol or drugs. These might make you feel a little better in the moment, but it will only mask your pain. I don’t suggest jumping into another relationship too fast, either. Give yourself some time.
Unprocessed grief will fester. Let it out. Talk to a trusted friend or family member, clergy person, or a grief therapist. Keeping a journal helps you sort out your feelings.
Grief changes you. You will never be the same person as you were before you lost your wife. But that does not mean there is no hope. There is so much to be hopeful for. Right now all the days are dark and you think you will never feel joy again, but you will, my friend. There will come a time when you think of her and smile instead of feeling that stabbing pain in your heart. There will come a day when you don’t cry. Color will come back into your life. It takes time.
You aren’t alone. You aren’t crazy. You are grieving. It’s normal. Just feel your feelings. I know guys don’t express their feelings like us gals do, but try to let it out. You’ll feel better.
This is a scary, lonely time. You may even feel some sense of relief that it’s over and on the heels of that thought may come guilt and shame. Don’t do that to yourself. You have been traumatized. You have watched things that most of us cannot even imagine. Be gentle with yourself.
Pray. Draw closer to God. Let Him carry your burdens when they are too heavy. Trust me…things will get better. They will get worse before they get better. Grief comes in waves. You’ll be doing better then the waves will catch you. They threaten to drown you but soon you will learn to anticipate them. You will learn to lean into them and know the seas are calmer on the other side.
In the picture above…is the sailboat coming, or going? It is a matter of perspective. We see it going, but Jesus says, “Here she comes.” Trust that. And know…you are loved. ❤
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18 NIV
(Inspired by the poem “Gone From My Sight” by Henry Van Dyke.)