Valentines Day 2015

A card that came from Mike with roses a few years ago.  Happy Valentines Day My Love.
Longingly - Your sweetheart

Looking back on 2014 - Venturing into morning

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." - Psalm 30:5b

The year 2014 brought me many rewarding times with friends and family and opportunities to serve others.  I have celebrated the little things in life in memory of Mike, like fishing and gardening. 

I have strived to seek joy in my life and discover God’s important plan for me.  I am “venturing into morning.”  It is a process that continues to unfold.

Seeking Wholeness

My husband died.

I am now half of a whole.  Mike and I complemented each other, completed each other.  Now I’m incomplete.  I seek wholeness again.  But how do I do that?  I can’t be both introvert and extrovert.  I can’t be both the quiet type and the gregarious, jovial, social type.  I can’t be both Mom and Dad.  I’m finding that out.  I can’t be Mike.

It was “we”.  Now it’s “I”.
It was “ours”.  Now it’s "mine".

We were a couple.  Now I’m an individual.

We were together.  Now I’m alone.

When I fell down, he picked me up. 

When I was sad, he made me laugh. 

Mike was my protector and defender.  Now I’m vulnerable. 

He saw the best in me.  I’m everything I am today because he loved me.  I’ve come so far.

Mike knew me like no other.  There will not be another who can know me like Mike did. 

With Mike my life had meaning.  Now I question it, yet seek it.

Mike was my mirror.  It reflected who I was with him.  It affirmed me as a lovable, valuable, worthy person.  Now I look at the mirror on the wall.  I see sadness.  I want to be who I was when I was with him.  I don’t want a new me.  I don’t want a new identity.  But change has been forced upon me.  Life is different, and I know I will change because of it.

There’s a void in our family which has put things out of balance.  His role is unfulfilled – the father, the husband, the counselor, the rock.  I can’t meet expectations.  They can’t meet mine. 

    

Life goes on, and with it new stressors and disappointments that heighten his loss and deepen my grief.  Mike would have been there with his optimism, encouragement, hope, and comfort.  Now I must cope without him.  But thank God for friends and kinship with others who have also lost a spouse and understand my pain.

But there are little rays of sunlight that peek through the dark clouds.  A newborn.  Grandchildren.  They bring me moments of joy.  Their giggling.  Their unbridled enthusiasm. Their wonderment in the little things of life.  Their affection and hugs – something I don’t get daily anymore.

And another thing that brings me momentary joy – sharing my music with others.  Mastering a difficult piece of music.  Creativity.  It’s part of me.  It’s part of who I am.

But it’s not all of who I am, and I wonder how I’ll ever be whole again and what that wholeness looks like, because it will be a different kind of wholeness, not what it was.

written February 10, 2014