The pain of new grief is nearly indescribable. It takes physical form in your body keeping you from drawing a deep breath or sleeping or eating. Like an amputee, you have had half of your heart removed and you don’t know how to live like that. It was brutal. Wave after wave of grief crashed over me with no time for a breath in between. I felt I would surely drown. I was numb. I couldn’t retain information. I couldn’t watch a movie or read a book.

After a couple of years the waves were a little less forceful, a little less often. But the memory of the pain filled me with fear. What if it came back? What if it never stops? I wasn’t sure I wanted to live like that forever. I wasn’t sure I COULD. As soon as I began to feel a wave coming I panicked. There were so many nights I lay awake…all night long. I can’t tell you how many nights I was up throwing up all night. It was so incredibly painful.

Through my writing I found an outlet for the pain. Through my faith I found an outlet for my fear. Last week I let some of that fear slip back in as I anticipated today. Five years gone. How can that be? I’ve knitted together a totally different life now. He’s been gone almost as long as we were married. I can’t smell his skin anymore, yet I can describe my memory of it. I can’t see his hands anymore, yet I can describe how they felt when he guided me to a table in a restaurant. That was my biggest fear…forgetting. Time twists our memories and they fade. And that made me sad…again.

Peace Be Still. This song lifted me all weekend. The worship team at our church played it Friday night at the women’s conference and it stuck with me all weekend. They played it again in church yesterday. I downloaded it in the lobby on my way out and played it over and over yesterday as I browsed through photographic memories of Mr. Virgo and me.

The first line speaks to me. “I don’t want to be afraid every time I face the waves.” After the chorus…”I’m not gonna be afraid ‘cause these waves are only waves.” In acute grief when I was physically mourning, the waves were urgent and overwhelming. When it got to the point I was fearing the waves, I had to remind myself I had survived them 100% of the time up to that point.

My favorite line of the song comes later.

“Peace be still
You are here so it is well
Even when my eyes can’t see
I will trust the voice that speaks
Peace, Peace
Over me”

I made a conscious decision yesterday. I’ve decided to celebrate Mr. Virgo’s birthday as my day of remembrance of him. That day is associated with happy thoughts. I think focusing on the sad days is keeping me in that sad place over and over and over and maybe that isn’t as helpful as it used to be. It’s an evolution of grief…looking forward since that’s the direction I’m going. That doesn’t mean I won’t remember or feel sad. It doesn’t mean I won’t have waves on occasion. I’m all about feeling my feelings. I’m also a proponent of letting go and letting God work in me.

Anyway…as much as I hate the phrase “it is what it is”, there’s truth in that. I can’t change anything about what today is, but I can change my focus. I feel SO much better than I did late last week. I’ll do what I always do…put one foot in front of the other, lift my head up, and keep moving forward. ❤

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:34‬ ‭NIV‬‬